Nightingale
by Blade Redwind
Summary: He was an ass, an absolute asshole, but, he was her patient and there wasn't much to be done about it. He didn't need her, he didn't need anyone; what he didn't plan on was *wanting* her. Post 4th War; Set in Konoha
1. Chapter One

_**N**__ightingale_

* * *

_I never lose an opportunity of urging a practical beginning, however small, for it is wonderful how often in such matters the mustard-seed germinates and roots itself._

* * *

**Un|**One

_SMASH!_

A thousand shards splintered, separated, at the impact; they came clattering to the floor. From the wall rolled a brown substance; it pooled at the floor where much more of it had smacked upon decent. A giant blob mixed with flecks of glass, bigger pieces of it with sharp, pointed ends.

Wide depths widened further; lips parted in surprise and shock. Two hands clutched a bag to her chest. She stared into the dimly lit room, at the toppled chair and the table where leaves of salad littered, a glass was turned over and a liquid dripped in tune with a clock ceremoniously ticking on the wall.

She took a tentative step forward. "I have orders—."

"_Get out…_" his voice came sharply, quiet and loud all at once; a warning as temperamental as the brewing of a storm.

Her eyes traveled from his unfocused black orbs, ones that weren't looking at her; they traveled up his arm and towards the wall where his hand locked on the length of where the kitchen separator ended. His knuckles were white; the wall breaking. A series of small, hairline-sized cracks escaped his grasp.

She swallowed and turned to look back over at his face. He panted, breaths heavy and labored. Sweat was a distinct sheen upon his flesh; human saline rolled between crevices of raw muscle, over bumps and curves of honed fiber.

She took another hesitant step forward, counting her heartbeats.

Faster than she could move he reached for a potted plant off the counter; she could see the sneer in his growl as he flung the item at her. She jumped out of the way, barely, and fell to the floor as the loud crash sounded against the wall behind her; it wasn't far from where the plate of curry landed previously. The contents of her bag nearly dumped a she scrambled to stand and ran for the door.

Her heart was a hammer in hear ears, pounding as he yelled at her this time, to her back. She couldn't hear him as the screen door smacked in her wake, rattling and bouncing against its wood frame behind her. She felt tears pricking at her eyes and she raced down the dirt path, kicking brown sand in her wake.

_There's no one who could help that beast_, was her final, fearful thought, _No one._

…

"Is that all?"came the distinct droll hum of a voice. A pen tapped on the desk before the speaker. Amber-yellow hues narrowed in trepidation. Her lips parted as her jaw flexed once, briefly.

The dark-haired younger shinobi nodded, eyes closing monetarily. "Yes, Tsunade-sama."

Manicured digits curled tightly around the pen, breaking it, snapping it instantly. Ink rolled down her fingers; in reaction she stared at it before throwing it, harshly, into a garbage can beside her desk.

"Here, Tsunade-sama." Shizune came forward and with a napkin from her lab coat pocket. Her frown was soft and the concern in her eyes evident.

"Thank you," the blonde muttered, taking it and wiping her fingers off. She grimaced distastefully at the black bits under her nails that wouldn't come off. It too was tossed into the can as she stood up and went to the sink in her office. She twisted the knob and water came rushing. She grabbed a bar of soap and began to scrub.

"Should… should I send someone else?"

"Is there anyone else?" she snapped, eyeing her nails and frowning before going back to scrubbing.

Shizune hesitated, not entirely certain if her master was being serious or sarcastic. She bit her lower lip.

"Well?" She snatched a towel hanging off a cabinet knob. The action jarred it open slightly. She turned and began to dry her hands.

Shizune sighed. "We could send Mia. She's—."

"Too green. She wouldn't last five minutes. Next."

Shizune looked back down at the clipboard in her hands, scanning the names on staff. "Daisuke is—."

"Too irresponsible. Make a note: I need to speak with him about tardiness." She placed her hand on her hips. "_Ball-deep_ is not an adequate excuse for showing up three hours late during ER shifts." She threw the towel on the counter behind her. "Next." She motioned with her hand for assistant to continue and crossed her arms over her chest.

Shizune, wearily, looked it back over. Countless names were scratched out with notes scribbled by her. She couldn't count them all. "…Chie might be suitable," she offered quietly, professionally. Her eyes hazarded up from the clipboard to Tsunade.

The blonde looked to be thinking for a moment; she wasn't looking at Shizune. She reached up and scratched her head, jostling her hair in the process as she looked to her left. "…No… no, definitely not. She's got great bedside manner, but, she can be a little _too_ aggressive by herself."

Shizune sighed, heavily and long. "She's no more aggressive than Sakura," the comment was muttered, under her breath in frustration; it wasn't so much directed at Tsunade, because really it wasn't her fault.

The blonde's eyes snapped to her assistant. "What..?"

Shizune blinked and pulled the clipboard to her chest. Her laughter was shaky. "Ah, nothing, Tsunade-sama…!" Had she been that loud? Did it sound snarky? If she were quick she might be able to placate her. "How about I pour you a glass of sake? Jiraiya-sama brought—."

Tsunade shook her head and stalked across the room to her desk. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a few slips of paper and new pen. "What is Sakura assigned with at the moment? Mission?"

Shizune blinked again, startled. "Um… well…" She thought quickly as Tsunade raised a brow at her as she sat. "She's been working with the poison unit in the hospital, Tsunade-sama. Her last mission ended a few days ago with Kakashi, Naruto and… Sasuke."

The blonde narrowed her eyes. "I don't remember assigning her to poison control."

Shizune shook her head. "She wasn't. She's just been keeping herself busy." She smiled. "She figured if she wasn't working on something you would give her something to do.

"Why?"

"Smart girl," the Hokage muttered with a small smirk. She let out a sigh and shook her head. Her voice was heavy with order. "Go get her and tell her I need to speak with her right away; she's to stop everything she's doing and not to plan on returning to it today." She began scribbling away on the paper, eyes drawn there.

Shizune's brow furrowed a moment. "You don't intend to assign her to…"

Tsunade paused, but, did not move her pen from the paper. She looked up at Shizune, as if to say, 'Duh.'

Shizune frowned. "Do you think that's a good idea? …I mean…" her words were broken as she tried to explain. "All considered, Tsunade-sama."

She grunted. "Do you have a better idea?" When her assistant said nothing she dropped her pen, sat back in her chair and intertwined her fingers in front of her face, elbows on the armrests. "Sakura's headstrong, dependable, physically capable of handling anyone with enough gall to try and push her around, _and_," she emphasized, "it's because of the nature of her relationship with the patient, as well as, his brother that I think it's a good idea."

Shizune nodded after the pass of a long moment. "Very well, Tsunade-sama." She turned, moving to leave.

"Oh, before you go."

"Yes?"

"Sake; the batch Jiraiya got for me that you _hid_."

"….Yes, Tsunade-sama." The dark-haired assistant hung her head humorously.

The blonde smiled once the door clicked shut behind her. She pulled her chair forward and reached for her pen again. Ink left a trail of words across the paper in front her as she settled back into the silence of her duty.

Her mind wandered as she wrote, waiting for her young student to show up.

Shizune had a right to voice… _concerns_, she supposed. She couldn't help but be a little concerned herself. There were a number of reasons why this situation wouldn't be a good one for the young medic to walk into, but, what choice did she have—really? He was angry, aggressive, hateful, and a danger to nearly every young man and woman who'd stepped foot beyond his threshold. His rage was quiet, painfully so. He wanted to be left alone and had told her so on more than one occasion. Kakashi couldn't even talk to him, and, he was one of the few people aside from Tsunade herself who'd walked into the home whom had left unscathed and perhaps only a little frustrated.

Sasuke didn't _want_ to talk to him and she couldn't really blame the younger Uchiha. It had only been six months since his arrival home, since the end of the 4th great shinobi war; peace, was welcome and widely accepted, but, it didn't come without its scars—emotional or not. Some things couldn't just be wiped over with a salve and wrapped with gauze; it didn't matter what the truth was… memories that hurt both parties kept tension and ache between them; it kept them apart. They couldn't see they needed each other…

…pigheaded, stubborn…

Her thoughts evaporated as a knock came at her door. Tsunade looked up. "Enter." She went back to writing out the mission details as the pinkette came in.

"Shishou," she murmured after her soft steps quieted and she stood before her desk, hands behind her back and shoulders respectfully squared.

"Sit down, Sakura."

Tsunade continued writing. She said nothing as her youngest apprentice sat down while she signed her name on the parchment. She listened to quiet shuffling of her feet as she shifted around to get comfortable.

Her pen was set beside the paper and she sat back. One leg crossed over the other as she leveled her gaze on Sakura. She observed her quietly and her lips twisted in thought while she crossed her arms over her chest comfortably.

Finally, she said, "I have an unconventional mission for you. Well," she continued drolly, "It's not so much a mission as it is an assignment. One that will prevent you from taking any extended missions for a time."

Sakura raised a brow. "Will it interfere with any work I have at the hospital?"

Tsunade shook her head. "You won't be leaving the village, and, you will still be able to go about your regular duties if time allows."

"Alright…" It was obvious by her tone she was ready to have it explained to her.

Tsunade allowed her arms to move comfortably to the arm rests. Her voice, when she spoke, was still and professional. "I'm sure you recall the night the 4th war ended."

Sakura's lips tugged into a frown only slightly. "The night Sasuke came back with…" Memories seemed to cloud her mind, stopping her from speaking further.

Tsunade nodded. "That was also the night you brought that same man back from the brink; a miracle to this day, in my opinion.

"Uchiha Itachi."

Sakura nodded, focused.

Tsunade sighed. "You, along with every other resident of this village, have since been made aware of Itachi's innocence in crimes against Konoha."

"Documents uncovered once Root was abolished after Denzou's execution for the attempted coup allowed for that evidence, Tsunade," she replied easily, without surprise in her voice. "He was made a hero for his sacrifices. Everyone knows that; myself more than anyone else." She looked curious.

The older woman nodded again and turned in her seat, her left side facing her student as she rested her elbow on the desk. She idly clicked a pen. "You also know he's been receiving in-home medical care because of his condition for the last six months since then."

Sakura didn't know much about it, but, she knew. He was a sore subject for her dark-haired teammate, former love interest; she just didn't ask and he didn't provide the information. Aside from that night when the older Uchiha was bleeding, dying and barely breathing under her hands, and, the few times Team Kakashi engaged him as the enemy, she'd had almost zero contact with him. Any information she had on him was limited to rumors, the bingo book, and the history books.

"I do, Shishou," she replied.

"For the past six months I've run through well over fifty caregivers; _three_ in the last week alone."

"I'm sorry?" Sakura's brow furrowed and her fingers went to her lips, touching in curiosity.

Tsunade turned her chair back around so she could face the pinkette. "He's run them all off, Sakura. He doesn't _want_ help. He wants to be left alone, as he's told me under no uncertain terms numerous times since the start of his recovery."

"How…?" Sakura had had some unruly patients in her day; some of them could run off a timid green nurse or two, but, nothing so bad that couldn't be handled by an experienced medical professional, nin or not.

"Oh, you know… he throws things at them," she explained with sarcastic, casual indifference, "Plates, cups, chairs, potted plants; he tossed a table at one man.

"He's cussed them, is uncooperative, refuses to do as he's asked. He's locked people out of the home. Sometimes, for the newbies, just a glare is enough, it seems." Tsunade sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "At this point I've run my resources dry. I'd go deal with himself, but, it won't solve the problem; I can't take care of him on a continual basis.

"He needs to be watched after."

The information settled over Sakura. A few thoughts entered her brain; one, why couldn't any other shinobi do it? Then, she realized he needed medical attentiveness—something a nonmedical nin couldn't provide. "And Sasuke?" He wasn't a medical nin, but, couldn't he at least stay with his brother and keep an eye on him for the simple things?

"That's another problem, scamp," she replied as she placed her elbow on the desk and her cheek in her palm, looking lethargic. "You know because he's your teammate; Sasuke's got some wounds to heal."

"Of course… it's only been six months."

"What you don't know is that some reunions aren't always… _perfect_; suffice it to say, it's no easy feat to start a loving relationship with the man who made your life hell for a while. Nor is it easy for the man who made your life hell to do the same."

That she understood. Hating his brother had been apart of Sasuke for a very long time; he'd betrayed his village and had become an avenger just to destroy Itachi. Therein lay ten years of hate layered between the two men; a lot to uncover to get to the bottom.

She voiced this, "I understand."

"What I need you to do is go over there and see to his needs, the ones he can't manage on his own; which, unfortunately—is most of them." She frowned, released a haggard sighed and leaned into her desk, both forearms laid side by side in front of her horizontally. "This isn't going to be _easy_ for you, Sakura. I won't mince words; he's an asshole and doesn't hide that fact. He's a justified asshole, but, an asshole nonetheless.

"Your assignment, from today on out, is to be his caregiver. Make sure he's well, that he eats, bathes, sleeps, and, that he doesn't overwork himself." Tsunade placed the papers she filled out in a folder and thrust it at her student. She watched Sakura stand and take it. "But, to put it bluntly, you job is to make sure Uchiha Itachi doesn't damned well kill himself."

If it hadn't been said with such a serious subject at hand Sakura might have laughed at the Hokage. But, as it stood, she was frustrated, angry and probably needed something to hit because of this whole ordeal. In short, Sakura just nodded, folder in hand, and said, "Yes, Shishou."

"Good, now get out. And, tell that other _brat_ that I haven't forgotten about the stash she was supposed to bring me quite a bit ago."

At this, the corner of Sakura's lips tugged. But, again, all she said was, "Yes, Shishou," and left, door clicking behind her. She leaned back against it, folder hugged against her chest and gave a sigh. She looked down, green eyes distant.

She couldn't help but think her teacher was right; Itachi was justified. For a man who spent more than half his life using his eyes as his primary weapon, going blind couldn't have been easy.

Not at all.

…

The grass had been mowed recently, she noted as she eyed the home. It had a small, four foot high fence made of wood with a modest gate. At the moment it was pulled open and resting at something of an angle; one corner dug into the dirt, indicating the hinges needed to be fixed. There was a front porch and a hanging swing seat. Two windows were to either side of the front door; all three were open with screens to keep the bugs out.

It had also had a paint job recently: dark blue. The open shutters were soaked in a deep crimson; both on the second and first story. The woodland that surrounded the home left something of a twenty foot gap between itself and the house; grass and a few fresh wildflowers remained.

All in all, it appeared as though Tsunade sent regular Genin teams out here to keep up the yard and the exterior.

Sakura gave an exhale and adjusted the bag on her shoulder; it carried the folder she'd reviewed and a few other things she thought she might need. Her steps were not slow, nor were they quick as she walked up the worn, dirt path towards the porch. She stepped up and towards the door. As she peered into the darkness that was his home, she wondered, should she knock? Would it be better to call out his name?

She narrowed her eyes and sighed, hand on her hip. "Uchiha Itachi…?" she called out. She waited, listening. "Itachi-san…?" she called again. After the span of about what she assumed was five minutes Sakura just decided to go in. Gently, she moved past the threshold and into the dark home; the screen door shut behind her quietly and without sound.

Immediately, her nose wrinkled and she drew her hand up over it. "Oh… _god_. What the hell…" She looked around; light coming in from the open windows allowed her enough to see while her eyes adjusted. She scanned the small room that appeared to be the main living space. Eventually, her eyes landed on the mess pasted to the wall, hardened from the extended time it had been left there. Her eyes drew lower to the floor under it where a pile of more of it, mixed with glass, dirt and a broken planter remained. A plant sat lopsidedly, dying.

She decided that would have to be cleaned up first as she turned… annnnd the table too, she realized with much dismay, once she noted the withering salad leaves and drying puddle of some liquid on the floor that had gone sticky because of the sugar content.

She released a breath and ignored the pungent smells; she waved a hand in front of her face, trying to at least alleviate it.

It appeared the open kitchen lights were on. This was the next place she went. She was quiet and slow, observing everything as she set her bag down. She stilled as she spied the wall-divider for the kitchen and the living room. Her hand reached up and gently trailed over the cracking frame. Her lips pursed as she digested the information.

In the kitchen the smell got stronger. And no wonder; stacks of plates and cups overfilled the sink. Several boxes of what appeared to be take-out littered the counters, half eaten. There was distinct hint of mold wafting under it all. Flies buzzed, trying to get a meal.

It was deplorable; unacceptable.

Had this all accumulated in the time he'd been without someone to aid him? Or, had it gathered in the last week between aids? Tsunade had told her there had been three in the last week. Depending on how long it was before they departed would certainly make a difference as to _why_ the house was so unkempt.

Her eyes narrowed, quickly. She tensed.

Pivot.

Slam.

Guard.

Dishes rattled in the sink; a glass fell, shattering in the otherwise deafening silence. Her lower back pressed, _hard_, into the sink's edge where she'd slammed into it; the surface groaned against her weight in protest. Her jaw was tight, her eyes collected and set. Her breath came out evenly through her nose.

One wrist was taken, pale flesh a stark contrast to her black, leather gloves. The other was in her other hand, lower and blocking the attack on her stomach.

She could see his unfocused hues, black with a tint of hazed gray staring beyond her, not at her. Black, long, wild bangs blocked them partially, giving him a ravenous, laden ferocity that cut through her without fear. If it affected her she placed it aside.

She grit her teeth, baring them a moment as she summoned strength sans chakra. Her hands gripped his wrists hard, pulling down. Their arms shook with the tension, with the combined, opposing force as she pulled, slowly, inch by bare inch.

She shoved him away from her; a kunai appeared; the sound was quick and cut the air as she reached for her kodachi. The sting of the pointed throwing weapon sliced across her cheek as she reached up with swift reflexes and blocked his second downward attack meant to cut into her chest.

For a blind asshole his aim wasn't too off.

Her free hand snapped over his wrist. She twisted his arm and turned him around, slamming his chest onto the island to immobilize him. The kunai dropped with a clatter.

Gracefully, in the same movement, she slid the kodachi back into the scabbard on her back. It clicked soundlessly into place.

She took a moment then, relaxing her form, and stared at his bare, unshirted, poised, honed and toned back fibrous with rippling, flexing muscle. She quietly watched his features; his breath fanned across the island top where the side of his face pressed, creating a fog of hot air across the marble surface. Dark black-grey eyes were closed; obvious, haggard age lines descended near the point of his tear ducts. His lashes were long; his features very angular and articulately sculpted. His hair, unbound for the first time since she'd ever seen him, was a swathed, silken, half knotted mess around him.

She observed him without words, listening to the slow rise and fall of his breaths. Idly, she wondered, why he had attacked her to begin with. Doubtful he'd done so to any of his other caregivers. The thought rolled around in her head, settling as she considered all of her actions when she first entered.

It occurred to her that it had become a common habit of hers to allow her chakra to raise and exude when she entered a home in her village, especially that of a fellow shinobi's. Doing so let people know she wasn't a threat and those who recognized her signature didn't jump at her. There wasn't a chance he assumed her an enemy… no, none of the previous caregivers had been shinobi; he assumed attacking her might scare her off. She wondered, briefly, if this had anything to do with her gender; which, was something a few shinobi could scent just from a chakra signature regardless of ever having met them previously.

When she spoke next, her was voice even, but, not threatening. "You will find I'm not a withering wildflower, Itachi-san, nor," she continued, "will I scare as easily as one breaks in the wind."

She watched his jaw tighten, his throat tensing in repressed rage. She was quite sure if he wasn't in his present condition she'd have more than a time with him; then again, she wouldn't need to worry about him at all if he wasn't in his current predicament.

He coughed, drawing her attention; he wheezed, jerking for air under her and spat blood on the counter. Internally alarmed that she could be inadvertently suffocating him by placing pressure on his lungs she let him go.

She didn't step away, though; instead, her face became a wash of concern, lacking the previous seriousness or battle-laden aggression. As he tried to lift himself with two palms flat against the counter she placed a hand on his back, gently. Green-blue chakra surfaced and she began to—.

He spun, smacking her hand away. He looked in her direction, jaw set and teeth barely bared. His eyes, while unfocused on her, took on an air of caged aggression waiting to explode with any movement on her part, any contact.

She stared at him for a while, waiting for him to react, to relax, to move. He didn't; he kept looking beyond her, inhaling sharply through his nose as if he smell her; or perhaps it was that and a combination of his condition. She wasn't sure; this thought occurred to her as she narrowed her eyes, watching in silence.

The moment didn't last before he coughed again and grabbed at his bare chest, eyes shutting tightly as he wheezed again. Blood from his earlier fit stained his lips, his chin in a trail of crimson. He teetered and she cut the distance between them easily, catching him, supporting him. Her hand drew over his back while her other pressed into his chest.

His breath was a hot fan across her shoulder and neck as he shook; his wet lips a bare brush of skin against skin. He didn't move to hold onto her; he didn't push away, but, she imagined that had little to do with how he felt and more about his own energy. That had been wasted fighting her; a vain effort.

He felt solid against her, warm. She could smell the musk, heavy due to sweat and more than likely a lack of proper bathing; it assailed her, but, not a negative way. As a Konoha medic with active duties and missions there had been more than one occasion where the scent of a dirty, fresh-off-the-field-male came under her care. Each one had their distinct aroma, and, unlike Ino she tended to enjoy what that scent represented, the smell itself—raw, natural, all shinobi, all male.

_He_ was raw; the thought crossed her mind without concern or disagreement with her own observation. She had always thought so, even when facing him across the field as a much younger woman than she was now. He was powerful, like Kakashi, but, nowhere near as expressive. She surmised anger, shattered pride and the overpowering feeling of uselessness created the man she held before her.

Hesitantly, after the pass of a moment, and with a slow exhale, she shifted the hand on his back and moved it towards the upper center. Gradually, not wanting to spook him, she released her own chakra and worked on a scan of his lungs.

His hand snapped over her wrist, the one holding his chest; it held, pulsing in and out. The breath on her neck became more erratic.

"Calm down," she ordered softly. "I'm just checking your vitals and your lungs." She paused, thinking in the quiet as she worked. "That is, unless you think you have the capacity or the ability to do so yourself."

She could almost feel him thinking as he unwillingly rested against her, tense and as incompliant as he could manage. Then… his grip relaxed and his let go altogether, his fingers lethargically running down her wrist. The action shot something through her; it was slow and languid, warm and residually calming.

His body lost its tenseness, but, he did not relax fully. Still, it appeared he would finally let her work.

She closed her eyes and sighed, half in thanks and half in latent frustration, thinking perhaps, her Shishou might have been a little too lenient with her observation of _not easy_.

No, there was nothing easy about Uchiha Itachi.

* * *

**AN :: **Here you go. As always, let me know what you think, if you feel up to it. If anyone can figure WHY I titled the story Nightingale then I'll give out virtual cookies. -grins- Or, you could just google the quote xP.


	2. Chapter Two

**.**

**Duex|**Two

There was a fog, heady and neverending. He inhaled deeply in the darkness; his nostrils flared, opening. Cedar, musk… his musk… There was a softness under him, cradling him; his bed. He blinked his eyes, unconsciously moving them to focus, to _see_; he couldn't.

He exhaled; it was choked, erratic and strained. His chest was heavy with coagulated liquid… blood. He placed his hand flat next to him, pushing into the crumpled sheet… no, comforter; it was thicker than the thin cotton he was accustomed to. It covered him; the bed had been made, he noted, feeling around as he sat up.

"Let me help you…" he heard to his left; he snapped his head in that direction, lids opening, blinking, in the darkness as they tried to focus in vain. There was a hand on his back and he jerked, jaw tight.

His memory returned as the haze of slumber left him.

He'd sensed the chakra the moment she'd stepped into the home; bright, enveloping, calming. He didn't want to call it soothing, but, that's all he could manage to compare it to; it was fact more than opinion. They'd sent a shinobi; Tsunade had. He shouldn't have been surprised, but, he didn't imagine there was anyone who could do the job Tsunade would expect of a medical professional _combined_ with the power a shinobi was expected to execute as well… no one other than herself; they both knew that wasn't happening.

He'd come at her then, not knowing she was a woman until he was right on top of her. He hadn't thought much of her when he attacked; there were a handful of medics who had shinobi skills and a handful of shinobi who had medic skills, but, he didn't calculate the possibility of there being anyone aside from Tsunade who was a bit of both.

The girl was familiar, but, he couldn't place it.

Her hand was still on his back; he could feel her to his left; he heard the scrape of a something against the floor. The angle of her breathing… she was sitting down. He turned his head away from her.

"Ok, look," he heard, "You've got quite a bit of blood in your lungs." Her voice was soft, but direct. He could smell… cinnamon… on her breath. "I need to get it out. We can do this one of two ways, but, I would prefer it to be the easy, less painful way. Right now you can't speak because of it, am I right, Itachi-san?"

His eyes closed; his jaw flexed again. He wasn't fond of having it pointed out.

"I'm going to assume your silence is answer enough." Did she roll her eyes? "I need you to turn around and face me. I'm going to hand you a bucket; you are to hold onto it between your legs. I will move behind you and section off the blood in your lungs with my chakra. Stop breathing when I tell you to; start only when I tell you to.

"Alright?"

He chose not to react to her instructions.

She sighed and cinnamon wafted past him once again.

"When I tell you to cough you are to start coughing right _then_ and as hard as you can manage. This will get all of the blood out of your lungs; that's what the bucket is for." He heard the scarping along the floor again; she was standing. The warmth of her body heat hovered over him. "Do you need help tuning around to face me?"

A moment passed. His head drew down as he breathed in and out slowly, wheezing ever present.

"Itachi-san—."

He pulled the sheet and the comforter back jerkily and twisted his body a little too quickly. His legs hung over the bed and he remained still. He heard more scraping and then something round, hard, and plastic was shoved between his thighs. "Hold this and bend over it. You want your face angled over it.

He wanted to snap that he'd heard her the first time; the words were in his throat. He couched in reaction, forgetting in his haste, and heaved a short burst of air and blood from his mouth. It coated the inside of his mouth, his lips and the inside of the bucket. He heard it spray; a dribble of liquid rolled down his bottom lip and chin as he shuddered.

"Don't speak."

There was a pressure on the bed; it creaked under what he could only assume was her weight. His right side dipped towards her as she shifted behind him. He tensed as her hands settled on his back, her thighs—slightly spread—around his lower back and upper buttocks.

"Relax," he heard her say. "I'm going to start, so, I need you to hold your breath. I will make this as quick as possible. Do not cough until I tell you to."

Once he felt the chakra warm along his back he did as she asked; he did not breathe. He felt it penetrate his skin and seep in through his pours, his muscle fiber; it tickled a sensitive path deeper in and beyond the cage of his ribs before finally reaching his lungs. He couldn't feel much beyond that point, but, he could feel a tug and a relief; it ached at him to take a breath in, but, he held fast.

Her hands moved up his back, along his spine; the pressure was hard, but, not too hard. Her thumbs rolled up his neck and he dropped his head as she pushed up towards the base of just past his hairline. Her hands stayed for a while.

"Now. Cough."

He took a breath in, deeply and coughed; he expelled mucus, blood, and a coagulated mess of _shit_ into the bucket. Somewhere in the process she'd lifted her hands and he found himself throwing up the contents of his stomach, heaving, shaking, but, feeling immensely better.

He could breathe.

The bucket slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor; it didn't fall over as he heaved into it further, almost unable to stop himself as another bout of nausea hit him. There was a hand on his shoulder, steadying him; another held his hair away from his face.

He exhaled deeply as he tried to still the shaking of his body, the beating of his heart and the jerking of his lungs. The woman next to him said nothing as she waited, as he pinched the bridge of his nose and released a shaky groan; his body was bent over and his sides pressed into his thighs. A moment passed on as he breathed in silence and his body gradually calmed down. He felt her shift next to him; the bucket scraped the floor away from him. He lifted his head slowly, lethargically as he felt her presence in front of him, below him… He pulled back slightly, inhaling deeply.

There was a coolness on his lips, his chin.

He jerked; his hand snapped over her wrist; her body tensed under his grip. His jaw tightened.

"I'm just cleaning—."

"I don't need you to." His voice was cool, cutting.

There was quiet.

"Very well. Clean it yourself."

He let go of her, satisfied, and snapped the rag out of her hand. With it he cleaned his mouth as he listened to her stand.

"I'm going to go clean this bucket and dispose of the contents. Then I'm going to prepare a meal for you. In the meantime, you may come with me… or you can stay here and rest. What do you want to do?"

He sat there, considering what she said, thinking about how to rid himself of her presence—mostly. He wanted her out of his home, out of here. He wanted Tsunade to quit sending him babysitters. He was not a child, he did not need coddling and it was a disgrace for anyone to think otherwise.

He recognized, in the process of his thoughts, that sitting up in his room would not do anything to alleviate him of _her_.

"I'll go," he replied evenly.

"Very well." She came forward again; he could feel her reaching out with something. "Stand and give me your hand. I'll help you—." His arm swung out and he slapped her hand away. He sensed her chakra flare, change from soothing to aggressive in less than a second.

"I can move of my own volition," he snapped.

He listened to her breath; it was quick and fierce. She did so through her nose, indicated to him only by the sound of it escaping and the lack of cinnamon in the air. He heard her shift; the material of her shirt dragged along her skin. It was loose fitting.

"Then get up," she bit back before he heard her turn, footsteps light and short. She had stopped by the door at his estimation in consideration with her height.

He did so, placing one hand on his knee as he lifted himself to his full height rather slowly. When she turned to go he followed. His hand lifted and felt for the doorframe after he counted his steps, the distance. He turned left, counting again as the bottom of his feet slid partially across the floor. His right hand trailed along the wall.

She was perhaps two feet in front of him and he held that distance until the stairs. He felt around for the railing, digits fumbling a moment until a pronounced wood surface made itself known. He took hold of it and continued downward, counting.

He stopped and turned his head back and forth at the bottom of the stairs. He inhaled deeply through his nose, sharply with each change in direction. His eyes shifted, trying to focus in a manner that appeared almost unnatural to the outsider.

"I cleaned," he heard her say, perhaps ten feet in front of him. "Everything was while you slept. The conditions you were sustaining yourself in were deplorable, at best." He heard a pause as she stopped moving; she was in the kitchen… maybe. He heard glass scrape along glass. The kitchen.

"I didn't move any furniture or rearrange your setup."

There was a pang of relief he hadn't expected from those words. He wouldn't admit the fear of someone moving the placement of his home had been distinct, and, more than likely the reason behind his initial reaction at the bottom of the stairs where he now stood.

"You can come over and sit down at the table while I cook if you like." He heard some movement from her direction; metal scraped along metal, some things tapped on the counter, there was the chink of silverware.

He took a slow step at first, hesitant; eventually however, he made his way across the space between the stairs and the dining room table directly in front of him. He felt around for the chairs and ran his hand along the wood surface. There was the one at the end of the table with its back to the stairs. He moved to the left, past it and tapped along the two chairs there. He stopped at the other end of the table and pulled the chair out. His hands fumbled across the wood surface of the back again before he seated himself.

He could hear something cracking in the background and sizzle; a pop rang out in the kitchen behind him. There were herbs in the air… basil… thyme… He heard her sigh, the shuffle of her feet as she moved around; cabinets opened and shut in her wake as she made no attempt to be quiet.

As he sat there, waiting, with his forearms resting on the table, he wondered who she was. She was familiar, her chakra was familiar. He'd spent so much of his life encountering one shinobi after another… all nameless echoes in his subconscious; it was hard to know them all—especially the ones he only encountered briefly.

It unsettled him that he couldn't figure it out, and yet, he was undecided as to whether he wanted to ask. And so he sat there… thinking, mulling, and contemplating the familiarity of her.

"Are you thirsty?"

He ignored her inquiry. "Who are you." It was a statement.

He heard her stop and presumed she was staring at him across the distance of the kitchen and the dining room. He wondered what she was thinking; if he could see her face then… the thought trailed, empty.

"Sakura," she murmured quietly at first, then, strongly, "Haruno Sakura."

His unfocusing eyes narrowed as a distinct pang hit him again; he knew the name, the voice, the chakra, but… he could not find the memory attached to any of it. "You're a medical shinobi."

"I am," she agreed, resuming her work.

He waited for her say more, to provide more information, but, she did not. The lack of action offset him. He wanted to understand what was nagging at him about her.

Then she gave another sigh; it was after the passing of a long moment, which was spent in silent counsel with his thoughts. He heard a scraping again, a plop and then the clang of what he assumed was a piece of silverware against a glass plate. His fridge opened next, from what he could tell. Liquid sloshed into a container and then there were a few more repetitive sounds before it stopped altogether.

He felt her close the distance between them; he moved back as she set a plate in front of him and a glass to his right. The scent of thyme, basil and…. egg, rolled over his nose strongly.

"It's an omelet. Your fork is to the right of the plate. Your drink is—."

"I know."

He could almost feel her frown. "It's water; unfortunately, you have nothing else." Her tone was clipped, but, not directed at him. "I will see to it you have food tomorrow… until then… this is it." He heard her sit down to his right.

He didn't move; her eyes were on him.

He turned his head to face her, blinking once or twice slowly; he couldn't fool himself into thinking just by looking in her direction he could see what he wanted to. But, he could smell her, feel her chakra at its resting level, he could detect the warmth of another human body less than fifteen or so inches away from him.

"I'm not surprised you don't recognize me," he heard her say, finally. "When we last saw each other…" she paused, appearing to him to think her words carefully; he could hear it in her voice. "Well," she sighed out, "when you _could_ last see me I was sixteen and you were still a member of Akatsuki. It's been over two years since then.

"But…" she dragged the word out, "if it helps… I'm the only kunoichi in Konoha with pink hair… at least since my great-grandmother…" There was a tang of annoyance in her tone, but, it was almost funny.

"Tsunade's apprentice," he murmured more to himself than her, as the dots connected and fell into place. _She_ was Uzumaki's teammate, his brother's teammate, and the sole female member of Team Kakashi, formerly known as team seven. He wanted to smack himself in the face; one, for not figuring it out—it felt so obvious now, and two, for not considering the possibility that Tsunade would send her. He'd forgotten about the slip of a girl; he'd gotten so use to base level medics.

"Don't feel too badly," she said, voice dead with sarcasm, "I'm fairly easy to forget. It's not something that bothers me anymore."

No, he imagined, it wouldn't; the job tended to require it, he could recall.

"You should eat," she continued after a bite.

"No thank you," he muttered.

He heard her fork clattered softly on her plate as she set it down. "You need to eat, Itachi-san." He could hear her picking something up, material moved between… her hands… her face; she was wiping her face with a towel. "You're body will suffer if you don't; it's already begun to."

He closed his eyes. "No, thank you."

A tension rose; he could feel it. He wondered if her hands were clenching, if she was taking advantage of the fact that he couldn't see her to glare at him, or, if she would glare regardless of his vision or not. For some reason, he liked to think she would glare anyway, even if he wasn't sure why.

"Itachi-san—."

"No." And there it came again; it was what it all boiled down to. Someone telling him what he needed to do, what he was supposed to do, what was required of him and no longer expected of him—useless. He never needed anyone to tell him when to eat after he became an adult, before he went blind; he certainly didn't need anyone telling him now.

"If you don't—."

He reached for the glass on the table; his wrist snapped. The liquid contents of his cup struck across her; he heard her distinct gasp as he set the cup down, click concise and satisfying. Ferocity mixed with some level of accomplishment filled him. He wanted her gone; he wanted them all gone. He—.

"Cold?" he heard her clipped reply while his mind tried to wrap around what she'd just done. "Look, I don't know what you think this is, but, I am not one of those medics who came to wipe your ass. Those medics take orders from me, Uchiha.

"We can do this the hard way, or, the easy way. Quite frankly I don't give a damn. If you want to fight me at every turn then so be it." She was standing over him as she finished, leaning onto the table; he'd heard it creak as he sat there… soaked in the liquid contents of her glass—stunned.

He listened as she walked away, heading the direction of his back door.

"Eat it, Uchiha!" And then the door slammed.

…

He was an ass, an _absolute_ asshole, she surmised as stalked around in his back yard, trying to cool her head. She pulled the towel up she'd taken with her and wiped her face, grimacing in distaste. She wiped it further down her chest, dabbing at her red shirt. Some of it had gotten on her pink medic apron. At least it was water; maybe it was a good thing he didn't have anything else to drink tonight.

She flung it over her shoulder, smacking her back.

She was furious. Livid. Walking out of there had been the only thing that had saved him, she was convinced. Had he really done this to everyone else? This child-like, brattish, aggression? She exhaled, blowing air of her mouth in a fashion that could only be called exasperated; she stopped and placed her hands on her hips. She glared at a tree; her fist shot out. Her knuckles connected with the bite of the bark, splintering it; she hadn't given it enough to cause much damage, just to placate her rage.

A growl escaped her chest.

She felt like stomping her feet and screaming, but, she wouldn't. It wasn't worth it. He was just an angry, bitchy, asshole who _couldn't_ see anymore.

She stilled.

He couldn't see anymore. She closed her eyes.

He _couldn't_ _see_ anymore.

Her hands tightened to fists and she hung her head; she sighed, hands uncoiling. Her body relaxed and anger, slowly, slowly, receded in the way she'd learned, the way she'd taught herself keep her emotion in check. She took a deep breath in, held it, counted to ten, and exhaled.

He was angry, she knew. She understood, in her own way. There was no way for her to know what it felt like, to not be with sight, but… she couldn't imagine it was good for him. He'd spent the better part of his career depending on the Sharingan, and then the Mangekyo. His techniques were well-known, genjutsu-based; almost all of his primary techniques he used were in junction with the Mangekyo.

She wiped a hand down her face and opened her eyes with a sigh; she tried, for a moment, to imagine what that feeling was like.

He was powerful; she'd already conceded this. He was shinobi, honed and primed for warfare, for protecting his important people. Much of his life had been wrapped in the ideal of being a martyr, in saving Konoha from the Uchiha, and saving Sasuke from himself—ultimately. Now… now he couldn't _see_, his body was backfiring on him; he needed help learning how to take care of himself. The word retirement must have held a bitter taste; it disgusted _her_. What would she have done… if this had happened to her?

This was when she sighed—_again_; mostly, in realization.

Sakura had a temper; anyone who knew her knew that. She was venomously independent, she refused to be left behind because of her past, and she didn't want to always be the one who needed saving (once in a while was alright). She didn't mind depending on people, or people doing things for her, but, ultimately doing things for yourself—knowing you could—was the point. What if she suddenly had to depend on someone to make her meals, buy her groceries, pick her up out of bed, bathe her...? Then there were the other things. She wouldn't be able to read anymore—something she loved to do and had since she was a child. Did he enjoy reading? She wouldn't be able to see her friends smile anymore; going to the movies would feel deflating… shaving, she realized would become a new trial in and of itself. How did he manage it? His face was baby-butt smooth.

But… most importantly… without your eyes… there wasn't much chance of you being on active duty anymore.

There were hundreds of things Sakura could do if she went blind; she would adapt. She had things she could excel at without consequence. It would hurt, but, she could see herself persevering. But, Itachi… it was entirely possible he considered himself utterly useless.

_That_ was something she understood.

She knew that feeling, the creeping, aching, crawling feeling that you could _nothing_; the word was spat in her mind

You were breakable, disposable and ultimately, you would be. You could tag along with the big kids, but, in the end you were put to the sidelines.

_It's too dangerous, Sakura; I've got this Sakura; I'll bring Sasuke back, Sakura, stay here; You're not powerful enough, Sakura; Stay back, Sakura._

She knew it all too well… Which is, probably why she was walking back towards the back door of the house, goal set, and mind in the right place. Her hand reached for the handle; she turned it and stepped in; the door shut behind her. She glanced towards where he had been sitting. She blinked, realizing his plate was empty; all that remained were crumbs.

"Ita—." A board creaked, interrupting her. She looked to her left and caught the tail end of his foot heading up the stairs. She headed in that direction and watched his bare back ascend upward, slowly.

She decided she would not say anything about the meal or apologize; nor would she expect him to apologize. She doubted he would anyway; some part of her thought he might respect her less if she did.

"Itachi-san," she called out. He stopped. "I'm going to be leaving a few hours, after I change your sheets. But, before that, you need to bathe. I'm going to draw you a bath and—."

"No."

Here it was again. She ignored it. "You probably haven't bathed in a few days; your hair is in knots and needs a comb. I'm going to assist you and you are going to take a bath. Any objections, physical or otherwise, will be dealt with. My word from earlier still holds. Do with that information what you will."

She could see the intensive flexing of his back muscle; it was beautiful in a way, she couldn't deny. It was that same lack of denial she'd felt earlier when she'd held him in her arms, scent of him wafting over her.

He said nothing as he continued his way upward; his steps were heavier and not at all unlike an errant child's going to him room because he didn't get what he wanted. She waited until he was clear of her vision before following after him. She caught his backside disappearing into his room. She stared but a second, listening, before going to the room on her left just beyond his.

The door was open and bathroom wasn't large, but, it was big enough for two people to maneuver in. His tub wasn't large either, but, it would suit his needs. The curtain was already pulled back. Like any other bathroom it was white with tile; like the outside of his home, there were mild navy blue colorings. The curtain was one these items; so were the soap dishes and toothbrush cup. Her eyes narrowed when she saw no razor.

His tub wasn't set into the wall like hers; rather, it had clawed feet and high back for relaxing back into. In truth, she was almost a little jealous. It _looked_ comfortable to soak in.

She reached over and turned one of the knobs; water flushed out in a torrent. She adjusted the temperature by messing with the silver, cross-shaped knobs until it suited her. She stuck in the plug and waited for it to fill, eyeing it with her hands on her hips. Wait, where was his shampoo? Soap? Were there towels? She looked at the rack on the wall; it was vacant.

A sigh escaped her and she turned. A cabinet hung over the toilet; she opened and found towels—clean ones. At least something was working in her favor. She pulled two out and hung both on the rack, folded to fit side by side. Next, she looked for the shampoo, conditioner and soap. Under the sink she hunted, moving toiletries aside. She breathed in relief as she found two bottles and a packet of soap bars. None of the items had been opened. Why weren't they along the edge of the tub where he could get to them?

She grumbled, but, set everything up she needed. By the time she finished the tub was full to her liking; she shut it off. When she turned, intent on going to get him she jumped, heart shooting out of her chest.

There he was, leaning into the sink with one hand and dark flannel pajama pants still on. His face was in the direction of hers, his eyes almost locking on green hues. It was a little unnerving, but, not in the way that made her afraid; it wasn't the same heart cracking, gut stopping feeling that had her contemplating the end of her existence that she'd been given on the way to save Gaara with Naruto. She couldn't place it, but, she wasn't afraid.

She exhaled slowly through her nose. "Let's get your pants off." She took a step forward.

"I'll do it."

She stilled her movement. Her eyes narrowed on him, considering her every action. "…You're exhausted, Itachi-san," it was said softly. "I can see it in your eyes. Fighting me today took a lot out of you. I—."

"I'll do it," he repeated.

Her jaw tightened, but, she said nothing. She waited. She watched as his free hand lifted and tugged on the string holding them around his narrow hips and cut abdomen.

Sakura considered herself every bit a professional as there was; she did. However, she was still a woman, and, there was always a part of her that couldn't look a fine, honed, bred, shinobi male and not think all those things Kakashi read about in IchaIcha. Tsunade never voiced her opinion in front of nurses or in public, but, even she would occasionally gossip with her—only Sakura and Shizune—about the half naked men that came through her exam room. Sakura had seen Naruto, Sasuke and even her sensei naked on more than one occasion. She'd gotten good at her game face even when the temperamental blonde was blushing like a tomato about her looking him over; these days Naruto wasn't half bad, but, that was just his body. Ultimately, Sakura could admire _what_ that body represented as much as what the smell of it represented, the effort that went into it and effect of it.

She was a woman, again, it couldn't be helped that she admired what that _male_ body represented more than, say, Ino's. Not voicing it was the important part; there was no remaining impartial. And she was just too mature to try and deny it to herself.

So, there was no real surprise on her part when the thin cotton slipped away from his hips in a whisper and she stared, examining every inch. His legs were just as taunt and hard as his arms, his chest. He wasn't bulky, he was lean, like any nin who relied on movement and quick action. She couldn't really stop her eyes from going lower, to that area above his mid thigh and below his abdomen. She wondered, briefly, if he had _any_ body hair aside from the thick, thready mess of black silk on his head that fell over his shoulders like sin.

There was no blush crossing her cheeks, no heat in her face, but, Sakura couldn't quite stop the hum that trailed down her spine, her lower back to eventually pool in her belly… and lower. Who would have been? He was older than any of her other teammates and closer in age to her than Kakashi; she couldn't deny the aggressive, purely _male_ aura that radiated off of him even when he was like this. Like this it was almost poetic and even more catching, constraining.

That heat expanded from below her abdomen and traveled down her legs, up her chest and to her arms. She kind of just stood there, inadvertently accepting it and the way looking at him made her skin, her pours, the hair along her legs and arms raise; her body let her know under no uncertain terms what it was feeling and she made no real attempt to fight it.

"Get an eyeful?"

She blinked, snapping back to attention. His voice had not been as aggravated or frustrated as she imagined it would have been. In the end she was a little upset with herself for being caught woolgathering, at the fact that she'd been doing so in regards to him. Or, maybe it was that he'd caught her.

She didn't comment on it. "Come on then," she sighed out.

He took a step forward, slowly, paying attention to almost everything as he reached out and trailed his fingers over the sink to the end of the counter. His calve brushed the toilet as he moved past her. His thigh gently bumped the edge of the tub.

"Do you need a hand?"

"No." He reached down and grabbed onto the porcelain-metal of the tub's edge.

She stood by, watching him, and ready to move if he had any trouble while he slowly slid into the water. He settled down, knees bent slightly, arms over the sides with his hands gently gripping; his eyes were shut as he exhaled.

She took a step back and turned towards the counter. The bar of soap was gathered, as well as, the rag she'd procured from the cabinet. She came to sit on the little stool that had been left in the bathroom; she settled across from him, facing his left side. He still hadn't moved, his eyes were still shut, and his breathing shallow; she wasn't naïve enough to think he was asleep.

She dipped the rag and the bar of soap into the water; she rubbed them together, lathering. Once she was satisfied she hesitated; her gaze went to his face. Breaths left him slowly and his face was relaxed. She wondered if she should try—again—to just go on and help him. Would he stop her? She hadn't been candy coating her words when she'd told him he looked tired. The after effect of him fighting her combined with the attention she'd given his lungs was probably a bit more than he was use to.

She set the soap aside and reached out; she set the rag on his chest and moved it—.

His eyes flashed open.

She stilled, waiting—not in fear, but, in what he action would be. Her chest rested on the edge of the tub where she bent over, it cut between her two breasts because she'd twisted in the seat towards him and at an angle.

His eyes were penetrating even if he had no idea he was staring right into hers. His face was impassive, chilled. He cut through her, tore at her in a way that was just fascinating to watch. It wasn't like when Sasuke looked at her… this was different; there was so much more there, so much more that went unsaid. Was he trying to figure out if it was ok?

She blinked when all he did was close his eyes, shutting away his cloudy black hues. She stared for only a moment longer before silently continuing. She moved the rag across his shoulders, standing to move around him. She brushed it across the back of his neck and he tilted forward, surprising her by accommodating her. His arms came next, under them and across his biceps and forearms. When she was as satisfied as she could be with her job she rinsed the rag, soaked it again and rinsed him off.

Again, he opened his eyes, staring at her, watching her in quiet contemplation as if he _could_ see her. She didn't comment on it and continued her work. She took a cup from the counter and dipped it into the water. She soaked his hair, drenching it to the scalp. Next, she settled herself behind him and reached for the bottle of shampoo. Once in her palm she rewet his hair fresh and went to work.

She piled his hair up, thick long mess that it was. She couldn't recall it ever having been this long. Didn't it use to fall just above his mid back? She found herself using more shampoo before she was satisfied with the amount of froth in his hair. She dug her fingers into his scalp, scrubbing and trying to rid him of any oil and residual dirt clinging there. As she did so he leaned forward again… her eyes narrowed on him as she worked, confused. She could only assume he was far more tired than she'd surmised. The man that had greeted her in the kitchen today would _not_ have submitted to her so easily.

That had to be it.

She rinsed him again and ran the conditioner through. When she was done she pulled the plug. He stood without a word and stepped out of the tub, carefully; he didn't fight her even as she draped a towel around him, drying him and warming him.

She tossed his pants in what she assumed was a laundry basket; next, she placed a towel over his hair. "Come on." She stepped out of the bathroom and turned, looking to see if he would follow her. She blinked and jolted back to him once he started to teeter. She caught him, releasing a breath.

"You _are_ tired. I told you. Idiot," she snapped under her breath. He didn't reply to her insult as she led him out, one hand on his back and the other in his hand. His grip was lethargic, at best.

She sat him on the edge of his bed. It dawned on her she still needed to change his sheets, but… ah well. She could do it tomorrow morning when he ate breakfast—if he ate breakfast. She moved the towel through his hair, drying it as best as she could. Satisfied, she tossed the towel on the floor. The disarrayed mess curled around his face and stuck with residual moisture. "Let's get you on the bed. I still need to run a comb through this…" It didn't take too much effort on her part; with a little chakra she had him settled, sitting cross-legged and leaning forward; he had enough energy to do that.

She took the brush she'd brought in from the bathroom off his nightstand and exhaled a sigh as she settled herself behind him. It would have been better to sit him in chair, she supposed, but, it was a little too late for that.

And so, without much else, she went to work on his hair. She combed his long strands beyond the base of his lower back. Knots were minimal because of the conditioner she'd used. Really, she was done in a few moments. She could have just moved, but, she didn't. Something stopped her, made her keep combing a while longer, until the tips of his hair became dry and his breaths came in quiet, rhythmic beats. She told herself it was girlish vanity; his hair was sinfully beautiful even after all the hell he'd left it in, that everyone else had.

Eventually, though, she stopped. "Itachi…"

Silence.

"Itachi-san…?" she said as she tried to peer around him.

Nothing.

She smiled softly and set the brush down on the nightstand. Quietly, with all the grace that had been instilled in her, she got out of his bed. She took his head and one shoulder in her hand; his head was cupped in her palm, hair pouring out over it as she laid him into the softness of his pillow.

She took a step back after she pulled the blankets over him just as quietly. Green hues traced over his closed, lashes eyes, his angular cheeks and sharp nose; they stilled on his parted lips, pinkened and allowing breath to escape in a whisper.

"Goodnight, Itachi…"

**AN:: **Thanks for the reviews. A lot of you had it right—this story title is based on Florence Nightingale, more specifically the syndrome named after her because of how many men fell for her while under her care. Believe it not, she was very manish in nature and supposedly a lesbian. Go figure.

I probably won't update this for a bit longer, but I do have a plan in mind for the first half of chapter three. I need to get back to work on **No Good Deed** first (my SasuSaku fic with an Itachi element). Hopefully, though, in the next week or two I will have chapter 3 up; no guarantees, but, there you have it.

—**Blade**


	3. Chapter Three

**.**

**Trois|**Three

Light streamed in from the windows behind her. The sounds of people talking around her echoed on in a buzz of indistinguishable conglomerate conversation. Plates rattled as they were stacked on top of the other and tables were cleaned. Forks, spoons and chopsticks clattered against one another in the midst of all other noise.

Green hues ran over a page in her book and narrowed on the information as she held it up to her face; her elbow was propped on the table. She had a fork in one hand, silver-reflective-item of it precariously hanging betwixt her fingers; a piece of egg hung off of it as dripped on to her plate.

"Naruto, throw that at me and I promise you will go through the window behind me."

"Idiot," she heard Sasuke breathe out next to him.

She could feel the blonde pouting. "You're no fun, Sakura-chan."

"And you're grating my nerves," she responded.

"Bah! You're both _boooring_," he chimed out in reference to both Sasuke and Sakura. "Bastard I understand. But, since when did you become such a stick in the mud, Sakura?"

She moved her eyes from the page to him; he was just barely across from her at the bench-style table they occupied. "I'm reading, Naruto," as if that answered the question. She gave him a cute smile. She wasn't really upset with him, but, it was fun to tease her blonde teammate when he was being a child.

"You were supposed to be eating with us. Not reading."

"A girl can multitask, can't she?"

He sighed long and heavily, obviously beyond exasperated at her.

She chuckled and closed her book. A marker was slid between the pages after she finished the bite hanging from her fork. As she glanced down at her breakfast she realized it was getting cold and she needed to finish it;… perhaps she had been reading for a bit too long.

"Are you training with us today?" she heard the darker-haired male ask.

Perhaps… three or four months ago… yes, that seemed right in her head; perhaps then she would have been a little put off by his question. Naruto was a repeat offender when it came to getting her out for a roll in the mud with a few kunai and fists passed between. Sasuke was another matter entirely; he had been, anyway.

"Yeah, Sakura. You're coming, right?" This was Naruto's muddled reply between bites of his biscuit.

It couldn't be denied that there was this distinct quality of satisfaction someone got from laying Sasuke on his ass. She was no longer a stranger to that feeling and hadn't been for a while. Still, there was no good face to be made rubbing it in his; she hadn't.

By then she'd been through so much she didn't give a damn to anymore.

Sakura shook her head. "Not today. I've got to get groceries."

Naruto frowned. "You went shopping for those yesterday."

"A keen observation," she agreed with some sarcasm. "I'm not getting them for me; they're for a patient I've been assigned the care of… well, indefinitely." She shrugged. "Or, at least until he can take care of himself." She cut off another bite of her egg and popped it in her mouth. Bacon came next.

"They have nurses for that." This from Sasuke.

She wasn't sure if it was directed at her. Maybe he was stiff about her not being able to run him through his paces today? "This patient has run off all of his nurses. He's abusive and belligerent. Tsunade seems to think I'm the only one who can make sure he's taken care of and does what he needs for his rehabilitation."

"Man, who is this guy? I'll knock his head for ya if you need me to, Sakura-chan." Naruto was grinning that whiskered grin at her; the one that made his eyes close and his whole face look foxy.

She took another bite and chewed slowly. She wasn't sure if she was being extra-paranoid, but, she could feel her darker-haired teammate's eyes on her. She wasn't really wary of the intensity; perhaps the feelings behind it once she spoke. She didn't hate Sasuke… she loved him, but, not so much as she had in a different time and place. So, it was possible this was the reason why she was attempting to _not_ look like she was hesitating. Such a thing was rather difficult when it was directed from someone that had known her for a very long time.

"Uchiha Itachi," she finally murmured after her bite and just before she took a sip of her orange juice to wash it down.

Naruto blinked at her; several times. She wasn't looking at either of the two men; she focused her unexpressive gaze down at her plate as she continued eating. There was no reaction from her answer; not from her.

"Isn't that—."

"Let's go, Naruto," Sasuke interrupted him. "Sakura can join us later if she has time."

"I may," she replied as she looked up at him, meeting his dark gaze without consequence. "Will you be there tonight as well?"

"Probably," he murmured. "That is what we usually do, isn't it?"

She smiled. "Yes, it is."

All he did was nod and head towards the exit; she barely kept her gaze on the back of his green Jounin vest.

"Bye, Sakura." Naruto gave her a smile before leaving her staring at much the same back, sans the black tuff of hair to be replaced by blonde.

Well… that hadn't been as hard as she imagined.

She was there for maybe ten minutes longer before she scraped up the last of her food, finished her juice and stood up. She pocketed her book in much the same place Kakashi did his IchaIcha and tossed a roll of bills in a disarrayed mess on the table for the wait staff.

"Have a nice day, Haruno-san," a waitress piped up as she came in behind her to clean the table and pocket the money

She gave a lazy wave over her shoulder in response as she walked out; the bell on the door above her chimed. She stuck her hands in her pockets as she made pace down the street.

Her steps were slow and lethargic; not because she was tired, or, really lazy… It was about half past seven; while the grocer might be open this early, she wasn't so sure about Itachi. Was he the type to get up at the ass-crack of dawn? She enjoyed sleeping when she could; which wasn't often between her team and Tsunade.

She gave a stretch; her hands reached high above her head and something popped. A grumble escaped her lips and she sighed; she rolled her shoulder while rubbing it, resisting the urge to wince.

She wondered, briefly, if today was going to anything like yesterday. He'd surprised her by giving in with the bath and when she'd combed his hair. She'd assumed he would put up a fight with the former, but, he hadn't. That could easily be blamed on exhaustion; he'd been half asleep when she'd brushed his strands.

…It was a sin any man had hair that long and that _nice_.

She found herself skimming through the local grocer and eventually the open market; the process was quick and painless. Time and inability to provide a proper means of procrastination led her up the path up to his front door…annnnnd turning around to someone else following her rather suddenly. She narrowed her eyes on the young man, maybe no older than sixteen, dressed in the whites of a restaurant worker. He had a brown bag in his hand. As she turned around completely, adjusting the two in her hands, he addressed her.

"Do you live here?"

"That depends. Who's asking?"

He took a moment to note her clothing, blinked and replied, "I'm here with a delivery, Shinobi-san. Breakfast." He held the bag up. "I'm from Tsunami's Steak and Egg House."

"Ah," she replied, not really answering him. Her gaze scrutinized. "Who ordered?"

He reached for a slip of paper in his front pocket and skimmed the lines. "Someone named Itachi."

"I see." She quietly set her bags down at her feet. Next, she reached into the pouch hanging off the back of her hip. From it she pulled out and counted roughly twenty ryo. She handed this to him. "Take that and deliver whatever's in the bag to Shizune at the Hokage tower; the Hokage's assistant. Tell her she can do with it what she wants and it's from Haruno Sakura, the Lady Tsunade's apprentice."

…

He heard footsteps and turned his head in their direction. His eyes narrowed whilst his mind tried to wrap around the footfalls and their timing. As they grew closer and swept past him, behind him into the kitchen a strong scent of…honeysuckle hit him.

Sakura.

"Good morning, Itachi-san," she chirped out, as if privy to his thoughts. Something dropped on the counter—heavy. Paper crinkled. She took a few more steps; plastic slid against plastic… buttons were tapped.

The phone.

"Reiko, it's Sakura."

Pause.

"I need you to call every take-out place in Konoha and have one Uchiha Itachi black-listed. And I do mean every one. You have this number and address on your caller ID, I presume?"

He tensed.

"So, it should be no problem then?" she clipped back.

His fists coiled into his palms, slowly.

"That's fine. Take all the time you need. It's not as if you have much work to do without me there, right?"

His nails bit. There was silence.

"…When you finish that take the day off, Reiko."

_Click_.

There was an even longer silence that passed after the call. He could feel his body shaking with something; anger.

"I met your delivery boy at the door," she said out loud as she moved about in the kitchen. He could hear his fridge open and close; cabinets lightly smacked against their wood frame. "I made sure to give him something extra for taking his package to the Hokage."

The chair slid back under him; wood scraped against wood. He could sense she made no action to stop as he turned and moved into the kitchen towards her. Once he'd reached the island, once he was what he estimated to be right on top of her, his palm smacked into the countertop; it rattled; a few items jumped.

"What _right_ do you have?" his voice was low, his eyes narrowed in the direction he presumed her face to be.

"Ok, I've got beef, eggs and pork. Which do you want for breakfast?" Her voice was directed downward and out; she still worked.

His jaw tightened. "What I want is for you to exit my life."

"Pork it is. Excuse me?" She placed a hand on his arm, nudging him. "I need to get—."

His hands snapped over her wrist and he pulled her arm to the side and away from him; he didn't release her. "I am not a child who needs to be coddled or taken care of," he snapped. "I will eat how I choose and when I choose."

She yanked his grip from her wrist, twisting to slide out easily. "Perhaps if you quit _acting_ like a child I would be more inclined to believe you, Itachi-san. As for food," she bit off, "Take-out is not food. It's _garbage_.

"Now, please go sit down and get out of my way so I can work."

He didn't move.

A long moment passed between them in what he could only call a stare-down, for nothing else than lack of a better term.

"It was my hope we'd come to some sort of understanding yesterday," she said, sigh in her tone.

"You were mistaken."

"Oh, obviously," she replied with sarcasm laced in her voice. "Apparently every time I decide to cook for you we're going to have some sort of damned _issue_."

A slow, careful smirk crossed his features. He leaned in closer to her. "If you're not happy—leave." His voice was quiet, a breath on her face. He could smell her; he could feel the heat every time she exhaled. "No one's stopping you, Sakura-_san_." The scent of honeysuckle was overpowering, intense.

"Get out of my way," she seethed.

Was she pissed off? Good. "Make. Me."

Something snapped against wood; a kunai… maybe. "If you don't get out of my way and go _sit down_," she hissed, voice a deadly whisper, "I will disable every nerve ending in your body, making you immobile. Then," she continued a she stepped forward, bumping his legs; the action forced him back a step unexpectedly. "I will have my assistant, Rukia—you know her, the one from the _phone call_ earlier—send over an IV drip to make sure you get _all_ of your bodily nutrients." She pushed him back further. His back smacked up against the counter. His jaw tightened again. "And maybe, _maybe_, when I've decided I'm not pissed off anymore," she bit off, "maybe I'll reconnect those nerve endings.

"What's it gonna be, Itachi-_san_?"

He wished he could see her eyes; if for nothing else than to have the gratification of glaring back into _something_. Instead, he stood there for a while with her leaning into him closely, knees nearly knocking his as she pressed him against the counter; she wasn't really pushing into him, but, he felt her all the same. The sudden acknowledgement of her warmth was unexpected and immediate; it overpowered his senses, intensified by his lack of sight.

Her breasts barely brushed his chest; twin mounds of soft flesh through the material of what he assumed was a cotton shirt hushed a burn on his bare skin. He could feel the tightness, the rounded stiffness indicating she was wearing bindings.

Her breath fanned across his face. He could barely detect what she'd had for breakfast… eggs… juice…With these thoughts anger slowly receded and replaced itself with…

Honeysuckle; all he could smell was honeysuckle. Was it her hair? He wanted to reach out and touch it, bring it to his nose to confirm his inquiry. The thought was fleeting, raw and all but ignored; he blamed it on heightened senses that invoked in him a need to fill the gap his eyes no longer provided.

He closed his eyes and stood straighter; he back lifted from the counter.

She stepped back. "Ita—."

"I'll sit," he interrupted, fight gone from him. He could feel her eyes on his back, but, ignored them as he felt around on the floor for his chair with his foot. He bumped it; he leaned down, pulled it up and sat down.

There was a distinct pause behind him before he heard her go back to work and begin cooking. The frying pan popped in the background, something sizzled; she scraped and flipped. The sounds repeated several times over, even between the pad of her steps and the opening and closing the cabinets and fridge.

Ten or so minutes later, maybe longer, he felt her presence next to him. He sat back instinctively, removing his arms from the surface; the clink of a plate hitting the table in front of him made itself known. A glass was set next to that; it echoed a similar note mixed in with the minor slosh of liquid.

"I got you orange juice this morning," she murmured. "There are strips of pork to the right of your plate, mini-pancakes towards the top center, and to the right is rice—steamed. The fork is to your left," she ended with a whisper before sitting down.

He could hear her set down a glass of her own, but, she was not eating; he could only assume she already had. She shifted around in her seat; a clasp was opened; moments later he heard what he presumed was a book opening.

Silence.

And thus he sat there, unmoving from his current position as she flipped page after page with an agonizing slowness. She shifted in her seat a few times; he could hear it when the chair legs scraped the floor. He tied to imagine what she looked like sitting there, book in her hand as her eyes rolled across the page.

There wasn't much he could recall about the pinkette that made up the sole female on his brother's team. That day with Kisame in the open glade, when they'd been stalling them from getting to the One-Tail, he'd been more focused on Kakashi and Naruto. He wasn't ashamed to say the girl provided little, if any, threat at the time; he wasn't so sure about her now.

He remembered her hair was somewhat straight, if not slightly jagged in its cut and the way it framed her face and tapered down her neck. She had been slender and trim. She hadn't been very tall, but he wouldn't have called her short either. She'd been wearing… red; there had been a red shirt and a pink skirt of some sort.

He tried to draw the image of her face in his mind in some semblance of better detail. Her eyes were bright, but, he could not pin point their shade or detail. Her brows were thin and high above her depths; predictably, they were the same shade as her hair, maybe darker. He couldn't even recollect her skin tone, but, he knew it to be on the faint side like his own and his brother's.

He found himself growing frustrated at the notion that he could not do something as simple as recall a woman's face; it wasn't unlike anything else he became frustrated with over since his disability.

_SNAP_

He blinked as his thoughts shattered rather suddenly.

"I'm going to the bathroom," she announced lightly as her chair moved against the floor; she stood. He listened as her footsteps echoed away from him and towards the stairs; they faded from earshot as she ascended upward and then down the hall.

…

Sakura stared at the mirror a moment longer after she washed her hands. She wiped them on a hand towel, ridding herself of the residual moisture before hanging it back up on the rack next to the sink.

She took that time to calculate how long she'd been in the small room before opening the door and heading back out. She made her steps known as she moved down the stairs and back into the main living area. She gave a glance at where he'd been sitting, noting the empty plate and cup; there were a few crumbs present. Green hues slid across to where a couch and two comfortable chairs were situated on the left half of the room. The top of his head peaked out from beyond the armrest of the longer piece of furniture; some of his long ebony strands fell freely in a disarray down the side.

She crossed the distance and came to stand in front of the top half of his body. His right arm was resting over his forehead and his eyes were shut. His left arm, the one closest to the edge of the couch, was slung over his bare stomach; it moved up and down with the slow rise and fall of his breath.

"Itachi-san," she called him quietly.

"What?"

"I need to check your vitals again. Can you please sit up for me?"

His arm slid from his face and his eyes opened slowly. "Very well," he murmured before he pulled himself up and turned; his bare feet came to set against the cool floor. Lethargically, he sat up, slightly hunched with his forearms resting on the top of his thighs.

She waited until he was situated and appeared comfortable before she sat down next to him. She placed her bare hand on his back; took a breath to focus and then released a steady stream of blue-green energy. Her eyes closed as she probed his flesh, muscle tissue, and his chakra system; mostly, she focused on his lungs and his stomach. Her hand slid lower down his back after she was done with his lungs so that she could better investigate his stomach.

"How have you been breathing?" she asked quietly, opening her eyes.

"Better," he said softly.

"Have you been coughing any blood since yesterday?"

"None," he confirmed.

Interesting.

She moved her hand back up towards his lungs. "This might feel weird while I have my chakra moving around in your body, but, I need you to take a deep breath in; hold it, and then release it when I say to. Alright?"

He nodded.

"Breathe in," she commanded. He did and she remained keen to the way the action felt to her. "Exhale." He did. She had him do this several times before she told him she was done. She released her chakra and her hand from his back.

"You're doing much better," she said as she stood. "But, before you go back to relaxing, I need to check one more thing." She moved around so she was in front of him; she squatted, half kneeling between his legs. Once he sensed her presence he moved back a little.

"That is?"

"Your eyes, Itachi-san."

His lips were a flat line, his face as impassive as ever, indicating nothing to her. "Why? My eyes should have nothing to do with my ability to breathe."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Will you allow me to investigate something?"

She could see he was trying to analyze her, which was easily made difficult by his inability to see her face; he could no more gauge her reaction that she could his thoughts. Some part of her felt it was fair, even if she wasn't exactly an open book anymore.

"You can't fix them," he suddenly concluded.

Her brows rose and her lips pursed, slightly parting at this interesting accusation. "I never claimed I would."

"Then why—."

"Because I believe the damage to your lungs and stomach may have been caused by over use of the Mangekyo, which, requires mass amounts of chakra to execute and sustain. I cannot confirm this until I examine your cornea, retina and optic nerve.

"Will you allow me to look now, Itachi-san?" she queried, hoping that satisfied him.

After a moment, obviously taken aback in slight by her quick response, he simply gave a jerked nod.

"Thank you," she muttered. Her hand lifted to his face. "Relax," she said with a gentler tone as her palms flattened out over the conclave of his eyes; her fingers rested against the sides, half sifting into his strands.

She gave him another moment to prepare before began slowly pouring a small stream of blue-green energy into his eyes. At first, he stiffened under her ministrations, not use to the invading flow of her life's force being so close to his face. She imagined anytime the nurses had checked on his eyes he'd been unconscious in the hospital, and, therefore would not have really experienced it in such a way.

"Easy," she murmured softly. A smile quirked on her lips. "Sasuke and Kakashi didn't like it much the first time I did it to them," she explained playfully. "By comparison you're a teddy bear."

He grunted.

Her smile remained until her eyes closed so that she could focus better. She allowed her probing chakra to settle in the center of his eyes, exploring and taking what data she could. Her brow furrowed as she allowed some it to trickle down his optic nerve; she sent a pulse of it in that direction slowly and every so many seconds, careful not to probe too deeply. Sending chakra to his brain without careful, super-focused control wouldn't do any damage, but, it would certainly conflict with instructions he was sending his own body. She didn't need any more reason to piss him off. She'd had her fill this morning.

"Alright," she murmured ad she released the flow of chakra and pulled her hands away. "Done." With a minor wince from sitting in one place too long, she stood.

He sat back into the couch, relaxing as he pushed back his hair and rubbed his eyes with the palms on his hands.

"Do you need anything before I sit down for a while?"

"No."

With nothing more than a nod she flipped her back pouch open, took her book back out and settled down in the chair closest to him. She pulled her feet up next to her and leaned into the arm rest; her elbow propped her up as she held her book in that hand and once again began to skim the lines in quiet reserve.

She engrossed herself in its contents, shifting every so often in her seat when she became even slightly uncomfortable. She wasn't completely unaware of him in the room with her, but, she wasn't focused on him either; it was just enough to notice, after the pass of an hour, that he hadn't moved from his spot to do anything.

She gazed over at him.

His eyes were closed and he leaned into the armrest of the couch in much the same fashion she was doing. His legs were spread out in front of him as he sunk back into the couch. He wasn't moving, but, she knew he wasn't sleeping either.

"Is this all you do all day?" When he didn't say anything she spoke again, "Itachi-san?"

His eyes narrowed a scant. "Is there anything else?" his voice lacked any enthusiasm.

She frowned. "You could listen to the TV or radio," she suggested.

"I have neither."

She blinked and glanced about, realizing, yes, it was true. She supposed she'd not noticed before because, well, he'd been her primary concern. "Why not?"

"Why don't I have a TV or why don't I have a radio?" he murmured.

She rolled her eyes at his cryptic response. "Both," she clarified.

"Don't have an inclination to own either."

The frown remained and she found herself tapping her book. It was the aforementioned item that she looked back down at. "And books?"

"I have none. And," he continued, "How would you expect me to read one, even if I did, Haruno?"

He was almost as bad as Sasuke; at least Sasuke had grown out of his assholishness… well, for the most part. There were just some things you couldn't burn out of a person's personality. She wondered, briefly, if he'd been like this before the accident. She didn't know much about it; her best impression of him prior had been the deadly intensity in which he attacked Naruto and Kakashi with.

She pursed her lips, thinking. She didn't have too much experience with the blind. Most blindness could be cured in a village such as Konoha, but, Itachi's wasn't exactly normal; it made the whole prospect of undoing the damage that much more of a conundrum. Either way, though, there were those who were irreversibly blind like himself; Konoha certainly had resources for those people…

She snapped her book shut.

"It has just occurred to me that you know Braille," she spoke out almost to herself more than him. Why had she not thought about it before? Itachi had been ANBU; even during his time in the unit they required their members to know Braille; it was a commonly used code; one of the many all ANBU were expected to learn to read and write in the cases of complicated code using more than one basic code, or, just to keep mission details secret from nonshinobi.

He raised a brow at her and she smiled, satisfied. "I'll have to bring you some books tomorrow, Itachi-san. What do you like to read?"

…

He wondered, momentarily, how she knew that; although, quickly reminded himself that one of her teachers, Kakashi-sempai, had been ANBU at one point and had more than likely shared this fact with her.

He didn't want her doing anything for him, but, he presumed if he told her that then she would just get him a bunch of books in a category he all but loathed. Then, naturally, she would expect him to read them and give him hell over it, and, more than likely a repeat of this morning's events. While he badly wanted her out of his life, he just didn't have the fight left in him today. In his own way, he couldn't see the whole harm of her getting him a few books… at the very least it would give him something to do besides stare into the darkness of his everyday thoughts.

He sighed, defeated. "Science fiction, classical literature, literary fiction based on historical events, but, nothing gory. I'm not much of a horror fan and don't perceive myself ever being one."

"Really?" he could hear the surprise in her voice. "Science fiction?" He noted the laughter. "I don't think I would have pegged you for a space-ship kind of guy."

He resisted the urge to roll his unseeing eyes. "It's not the technology that interests me; it's the story, Haruno."

"You don't like strategy-based documents?"

He shrugged. "I'm not entirely against them, but, I like to break up the monotony now and then."

"Alright…well, I'll do what I can…"

There was the return of quiet again. Yet again, he found himself in the folds of his own thoughts as she went back to her book. Only now, there was this nagging curiosity because of the previous conversation. He blamed it on that, and, the combination of her ever-present company.

"What are you reading?"

There was this pause; he could assume she was finishing the line she was reading before she would respond, or, that she was a little surprised by his inquiry.

"I'm embarrassed to admit it's nothing remotely mature, or, the least bit of having anything to do with my chosen profession," there was a little laughter in her voice. "It's a fantasy story about a woman and her lover who've been cursed by a sorcerer. By day she's a hawk and by night he's a wolf. They can't be together until they find a way to break the curse."

"A love story."

"Yeah, for the most part, but, it has a lot of action and political intrigue in it. For the longest time you can't even figure out that they changed; it was just so apart of the story you're confused, but, almost unsuspecting of the fact that either of them were the creatures. You just kind of keep wondering what the curse exactly entailed and why one of them always went missing around the same time the other animal did."

He nodded. "I think I've read it before… but never finished it." It had been years since he'd really sat down to read a book; there were just always other things to do… things he didn't want to dwell on.

"Really?" she asked, sounding intrigued. "Well…" she edged, stopped, and then sighed; it was obvious she was thinking about something. "You know, I've never really read to anyone before… discounting the Academy… and a few times in the children's ward at the hospital… but, if you want… well, I _don't_ _mind_ reading to you. I'm not sure how far you got in the book before…

"It would certainly give you something to do besides just… sit there."

She had a point; he wasn't going to admit it, though. "I won't stop you, Haruno."

There was a snort of laughter. "If you say so…"

A few second passed and he wondered if she was going to start at all, or, if she'd changed her mind at the expense of his arrogant remark. But, then, right when he thought she had changed her mind, she began to read.

He found himself closing his eyes as her voice rolled over him, humming a long series of sentences all laced together that painted and image in his mind; he found himself transported to somewhere besides the consequence of his own thoughts, misgivings and overall feelings of falling short. It was soft, lulling and every so often he found himself smirking at something funny, visualizing the characters she explained to him from the writer's perspective. It was interesting, at best, but…

…not entirely unfavorable.

…

It was many hours later that Sakura found herself sweating, swathed in the cloak of night, muscles aching, and chakra levels fluctuating as she tried to temper them back to normal. Short, quick breaths expelled themselves from betwixt the passage of her lips; her chest rose and fell in bursts as she glued her back to the bark of a tree, crouching, listening.

_CRACK!_

In stilled time, splinters exploded around her, shattering in a flux of angry, poised energy. Time slowed as she exhaled in the same moment; her body curled and she ducked, rolling away from the slice of a silver-glistening blade. She ran, leaping as the blade swept under her; she turned, twisted in the air. Dirt ground under the front balls of her feet as she slid backwards, crouching with one gloved hand grasping for balance; clay crushed between her digits as she raked it across the brown terra firma.

She retaliated as the singing of silver crept over her, teasing to cut into her pale flesh. Her fist exploded into the ground, erupting in a wave of crumbling inertia. She watched as his lithe and able form took sever leaps back and up into one of the trees. He jumped from tree to tree as the rolling rock and dirt upset the root systems.

Spiraling red and ebony tomoe locked on her position.

In a flash of movement she was gone, blinking in and out of sight like the vibrant beating of a dragonfly's wings. Steel sparked against steel as she hit him head on with her kodachi; he blocked with his Kusanagi. Movements were bated breaths, each one twice the amount between the ongoing drum of her heart—his heart.

Crimson seared a stain across her chest and she jumped from the trees, making a distance of twenty feet between them on the ground as he followed. Blue-green chakra focused on that area, sealing and reforming the skin without the aid of her hands.

He dashed towards her, not taking pause. She watched at the white-hot energy pulsed in his hand, screaming with the voice of a thousand birds.

She sheathed her kodachi; her hands formed the signs. "Kage Bushin no Jutsu!" she shouted, executing the technique. Seven clones formed around her, him as he drew in at just the right time.

"Shit!" she heard him exclaim.

Her hands formed the signs in sync with her clones as they enclosed him in a fragment of time counted in less than a second. "Flash of the Rising Sun!" she cried out, smacking her hands together in unison with her clones. Her palms opened as a blinding, white flash of energy exploded around him in the center.

In the same movement, her clones combusted and she surged forward, filling her fist with green-blue heat as the light faded from around him; her fist drew contact with his stomach. She felt as his body escaped her, flying with the momentum she set.

There was a crack, a crash and then another curse.

She took a moment to exhale and inhale, hands on her thighs as she caught her breath. Fuck… that had been a lot of chakra. She looked up as the dust faded around her, as the cloud dissipated; she could see him resting against the cracked frame of a tree—where he'd landed. The impression of his back was half encrusted into the bark. He wasn't moving to get up, but, he wasn't that bad off either… or good.

She smacked her hands against the side of her thighs, upsetting dirt before she walked towards him.

His elbows were on his knees, both legs spread slightly in front of him; his head drooped as he too tried to catch his breath. His black hues drew up to hers as she stopped at the edge of his feet, narrowing.

"I really hate that combo."

She chuckled and knelt down in front of him between his legs. "That makes us even, doesn't it? Two days ago you were in the lead."

"I wasn't aware we were counting."

She laughed again as he blinked at her, trying to get rid of the state his eyes were left in. "We weren't. My name isn't Naruto. Here, don't move…" she murmured, reaching out with both hands; she covered his eyes and exuded gentle, easing chakra.

"Thank Kami for that," he replied as she worked.

"How's that feel?" she asked after a moment or two.

"Better…" he murmured.

Slowly, she pulled her hands away. "And now?"

He blinked a few times after he opened his eyes, obviously readjusting the focus off his cornea. "Much better." He looked up at her again as she stood. He took her offered hand with a grunt, lifting himself up as she pulled for leverage. Once she released him he dusted himself off and sheathed his blade with a snap.

"Thanks for the workout." She rolled her shoulder, grasping it with her other hand as they both made way over to where their stuff was. Water, she needed it.

"Where in the hell did you manage to come up with that technique, anyway?"

She looked over at him. "Eh… well, Kakashi kindly pointed out to me one day that there are a handful of powerful shinobi who use eye techniques. He suggested creating a work around." She shrugged. "Neji was nice enough to help me with it when Kakashi couldn't. Hinata too."

"That's a good point," he admitted as he stopped and snagged his water bottle up. He snapped the lid open and drank generously from it. Once he was done he wiped his chin, dark hues eyeing her as she drank from her own just as rigorously. "It also works again regular shinobi."

She too wiped her mouth, holding the bottle aside. "Yeah, but, the only drawback is it uses a mass amount of chakra because of the shadow clones; they execute it the same time I do. Basically," she explained, "I can't use it unless I'm absolutely certain I need to.

"But, it's a good escape method in a tight situation."

He nodded and sat down on the small stump.

She joined him, leaning her back into his; he reflected her actions.

She closed her eyes and dropped her head back against his. "So, Naruto didn't want to come?"

"Date with Hinata."

"Ah."

They sat there in silence as the background noise droned on. Crickets sounded in the distance; cicada, frogs, and other critters joined in the mutual chatter that was the night. Wind rustled the trees; leaves tapped against one another, creating a sound akin to hushed rain. Their mutual, heavy breaths were almost one; every now and then they broke unison before coming in sync again.

"I think I'm gonna head home," Sakura announced finally. She gave a groan as she stood up; her bones ached thanks to him. "I see a hot bath in my future; plus, I need some rest so I can get up early tomorrow—again." She sighed.

"Sakura."

"Yeah?" she replied in question as she gathered her things up.

Sasuke rubbed a hand down his face, but, he didn't get up. "I don't want to talk about it. But," he murmured, "I want you to know I appreciate what you're doing for my bother."

She looked over at him then, stilled as her eyes settled on his back. She was quiet.

"I know about all the other nurses… caregivers… whatever. Tsunade kept me abreast of it…" He paused again, elbows on his knees now, fingers interlaced in front of his face in way that had always been purely Sasuke. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I feel… at ease knowing it's you.

"Make sense?"

She nodded. "Yeah." Her smile was soft and simple. She let out a long sigh when he said nothing else. "Well, it's late and my tub is calling. You gonna be ok getting home?"

He snorted.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I figured that would be the response I would get, prick. See you tomorrow." Without much else she turned and left, thinking her day really hadn't been a total loss.

But, whoever thought dealing with two Uchiha men on a regular basis was easy was out of their fucking mind.

* * *

**AN :: **So, I'm actually fairly surprised people read my author notes for this story. Usually, only a handful of people read my author notes at all on my other fics. I'm not really sure if you guys are incredibly curious, bored beyond measure, or, just plain stupid. Obviously, I'm joking, but, it is _that_ shocking.

I'm also amazed I managed to get this chapter done; I was working at such a snail's pace, trying to piece it all together in my head and then on the screen. I had a few plans for this chapter, but, then decided it was just too soon for the mood of this story.

So! **A lot of people have been asking me about Sakura curing Itachi's blindness**. I debated throughout the entire writing of this chapter what my response would be. A year or two ago when my writing wasn't nearly as good as it is now, I would have given it all away; because, at heart, I'm easily—euphorically—excited about my work… so, I have a tendency to want to share that euphoria with everyone (and I do mean EVERYONE). But, now… the answer is simple:

I guess you'll just have to read to find out, won't you?

And with that I bid you adieu.

—**Blade**

**P.S.** Virtual cookies to anyone who guesses the movie the book Sakura is reading references. (It's an olbie, but a goodbie.)


	4. Chapter Four

.

**Quatre|**Four

He could hear nothing but his breath, and, vaguely at that. There was a heat on his face; a coolness of a breeze swept across his skin, but, he was not wholly aware of any of this. Warmth surrounded him, swathed him in the way that a mother might wrap her child. The quiet stilled him softly. The comfort under him lacked the hard, penetrating surface he had once been accustomed to.

And yet… something invaded his senses; it pricked at them. No matter how old you got, or, how long remained away from the rush of heat… there were just some things you never really forgot. Thumps broke through the fog around his ears; his breath changed as he felt the offset of air around him; glassy orbs shifted beneath soot-lashed hoods; blood rushed faster through his veins; something twitched.

That heat got closer; the saturated rise of that heat, of another breath barely danced over his bare flesh. He felt himself counting. And then…

His hand snapped out, cuffing over a wrist; in the same fluid motion he slid the kunai from under his pillow, pulled the invader over him, found himself between their thighs and jerked the cold steel of the blade to their throat.

He could hear the pound of his heart in his ears; their gasp was distinct; the air that left through passage of his flaring nostrils was slow and heavy all at once. He could not think; he could only act. Images of long before pervaded his mind's eye; the flashes were distinct and clear, yet, at the same time a phantasm. He could smell blood, burning flesh; he could hear screams; sometimes a few, sometimes one, and, then sometimes a great many of them all at once. He could see licking flames that went one for miles; chaos echoed an endless stream into his consciousness. Bones broke under his grip; minds collapsed under his accelerated action. A sword, a kunai, stabbed repeatedly into a woman, a man; they cried out in agony; their words of mercy pierced his ears and cut what was left of his soul. Poison was the cloak he wrapped his body in; it was a neverending agony he ignored for the sake of the mission—duty.

His eyes were open, but, he could see nothing but the past as it rolled out before him in a flurry of filmed after images made to seem real, locked in the present.

"Itachi."

A hesitant grip squeezed his shoulders; the pressure was soft.

He jerked the weapon in his hand, the action was hard and threatened to peal the enemy's throat open in the fracture of a second.

"Itachi."

There was a chime; the sound dredged on, a litany in his ears. He swallowed, once again recaptured by hate, bloodlust, pain, ache, agony, _revenge_. He could see the straw-wicker of a hat; white paper strips hung and floated in the wind; the chime sounded again. Red was swallowed by black; the black laced it in a swirl, coiling the taint of blood into a pattern better suited in the sky.

"It's Sakura."

_Honeysuckle_.

Everything faded slowly; the bile rising in his mind, the one that suffocated his lungs and heart all at once, receded… The images gradually sunk to the abyss. He watched, felt, as they trickled back into the caged box in the back of his subconscious; a metaphorical chain wrapped about the trunk… locking.

When the world around him came back into focus Itachi couldn't quite just then fathom the position he was in, or, who he was in it with. Quiet continued to wash over him as his grip on the kunai loosened; warmed steel wrapped in linen slipped from his fingers and bumped gently along the mattress. He could hear birds chirping in the distance; a wind danced through the screen of his windows. The breeze upset his hair; it tickled his features, kissing them like a lover's caress. There was the sting of the sun on his bare flesh.

The beat in his chest slowed, not stilling back to its usual relaxed pace. There were a mixture of scents that wafted over his senses; the masculine hint of sweat on his sheets, pine and earthy underbrush from the outdoors which was brought in with the wind, and… honeysuckle.

Cotton half stuck to his thighs and his hips—his calves. His feet were in a tangle of material he could only identify as his comforter… and there was the bareness of skin against skin, heat against heat. He was made aware of his hand on her shoulder, his left forearm holding her bicep down, his other hand now half resting in much the same position.

There were mounds, soft in the barrier of her binds; his chest flattened them. His stomach, as bare as the rest of his body from his waist up, covered hers. The faint hairs along her skin tickled his abdominal; they were coarse with their mutual pull and release of air; he realized her shirt had ridden up. The bite of her waistband cut that area just above his groin under the material of his pajama pants.

She was warm all over; the temperature coming off her in waves seeped under his skin and threaded through the rest of his body, his blood. Breath fanned over his face, spreading over his lips, his cheeks, and his nose to dance a fragmented erratic path across the space of his soft and angular features; he could smell mint. There was a disturbance in the loosely bound strands that fell over his shoulders and around him; precariously, with what little movement was caused by his short exhales, they felt further; and though he could only feel it… he imagined the curtain of ebony trailed around their faces…. mere inches apart. His nose inadvertently brushed hers.

Again, rather suddenly and unexpectedly, he was struck with that desire to _see_ her. The thought was raw, brief, and not fully recognized for what it was; the idea was so very different from what it had been yesterday. Was she staring at him stoically… with fear in her eyes… a smile…

The hands on his shoulders squeezed again. "Are you alright?" he heard her say, quietly.

He blinked slowly; his lips parted and he couldn't quite formulate what expression he wanted to settle for. Instead, he closed his eyes and pulled away; a coldness passed over him as the stick of his body tugged away from hers and he situated himself back onto his bottom. One leg was drawn up; he placed the bend of his elbow on the top of it; his hand hung loosely. His other leg became bent at the knee and laid on its side, foot under the bent arch of his other knee. His free hand came up as he dropped his head slightly; fingers dragged through his wantonly long strands, pulling them away from his eyes and face for only a moment.

He felt the bed move; her body shifted… she was closer to him. He tensed, unsure why his body had that reaction.

"I wouldn't have woken you… but, it's nearly ten and I have lunch prepared for you." He could hear the pause, feel the tug … she wanted to say more. "…Is there a better way to wake you in case of I have to do so again?" She wasn't even asking why; the tenseness left his body almost immediately… he hadn't been expecting that.

"You could attempt calling my name," he offered without waver or rise in his voice.

"I tried that."

He could feel her eyes on him.

"Then perhaps waking me from the foot of the bed would be best."

"Ah… well, yes, perhaps. Until you decide it's a good idea to throw the kunai at me."

That bright, clockwork mind wrapped around her words, reflecting on the weight of them. It was then he tried to calculate a better way for her to wake him if she had to. A good minute passed before he heard something… laughter. Her laughter.

He sighed. "You are teasing me."

"Only a little. I'm quite sure if you decide to throw the kunai at me I can dodge it, Itachi-san."

He should have come to that conclusion himself; she was adept enough, after all.

"Vixen," he muttered uncharacteristically as the bed dipped and he heard footpads, indicating she'd gotten up.

If she heard him she ignored him. "I've brought books for you today. When you're ready come downstairs; food is on the table."

He nodded as he rubbed his temple. Ten… he'd really slept in till ten?

He ran a hand through his unbound strands again. He rubbed his eyes next, pushing the sleep out of them and gave a brief sigh. Then he got up. His hand touched the doorframe as he passed, fingers gliding down until he was far enough away he could no longer. Those same fingers ran along the wall, fumbled until he found the railing and then released as he made the final step onto the main floor. He went around the table much the same way he had every other day. He heard the scraping of chair legs from Sakura's preferred seat; she was adjusting and getting comfortable. Paper ran across skin; she was reading again.

He sat down.

"I made you a sandwich today." He could tell by the direction of her voice she hadn't looked up from her book. "And there's a glass of orange juice again to your left. But, if you want me to get you something besides that next time, let me know. I'll put on my list when I go to the market later in the week." He heard a page turn; after that the comfortable silence fell.

He moved his elbows to the table and allowed his forearms to rest side by side in front of him. Rather automatically, his head turned towards the open screened windows he knew to be to his left; they led out to the back yard. Vaguely, he could hear a bird singing… another bird.

"Itachi-san," Sakura began; her voice was even, normal, but, he could hear something else there. She wanted to say something. He turned his head back towards her, eyes set in the direction he assumed her face was.

There was a quiet pause; she was collecting her thoughts. A snap echoed in the stillness of the room; her book shut.

"I think it's safe to say, based on a few observations on my part, that you are uncomfortable with the idea of eating in front of anyone." She allowed her statement to settle, perhaps even to give him time to weigh her words.

He didn't reply.

"In fact, I'm positive the reason you walk around without a shirt on is to ensure you're not left with a mess… should one occur.

"The blind can't see what they can't feel."

He resisted the urge to show surprise at her conclusion; perceptive.

"You're probably wondering what I'm going to do about this, if anything. Honestly," she said with some inflection in her voice, "I could care less if you go your whole life not eating in front of anyone. I know you know how to; the hospital was required to teach you that before you were allowed to discharge.

"Also, I doubt you really have any problems. _But_," she did emphasize the word, "you Uchiha men are absolute perfectionists. I'm quite certain one crumb on your chest would constitute as a failure of some sort," she muttered, sounding a little aggravated. "So, if you would rather I get up and leave so you can scarf down that sandwich, then I will.

"Alright?"

He could do nothing but stare at her, even if he couldn't see her at all. It wouldn't look unusual to her; he could imagine her going back to her book, waiting for him. Yet, she didn't go back to her book; he could feel those green eyes (as he imagined them) staring at him questionably.

Haruno… Sakura… was something unusual. Unlike many of her generation, his, she didn't really flaunt herself or her abilities. She wasn't throwing it in his face that she'd come to any of these conclusions on her own; he hadn't really been hiding them, but, at the same time there were very few people that would have realized why he didn't wear a shirt aside from the obvious heat outside. It certainly wasn't done to impress anyone, as some of the female aids might have joked quietly to their friends; he couldn't even really recall what his own chest looked like. If he were a vain individual he was sure that would have bothered him, but, it didn't.

"Itachi-san?" she prompted.

"I would prefer to eat alone."

"Alright, well, before I do that I have a favor to ask you." There was a small thump on the table; the book. "I need to get a few things in town today, but, some of the shops are only open between twelve and four in the afternoon… the time I'm with you."

It didn't take much of a genius to figure out what she saw asking.

"I think it would be good for you; you need to get time out of the house. And, you need to get use to walking around Konoha again. At some point or another I'm not going to be here anymore; I'll have other duties to attend to and you'll have to take care of yourself—effectively. With that being said…" she murmured the last, sounding hesitant. Again, he was faced with the desire to see her face, her expressions. "You need to consider learning how to use a white cane. Or—."

"No."

She sighed. "_Or_… getting a seeing-eye dog."

He opened his mouth to reply, or started to anyway when he assumed she was going to argue the good points of learning how to use a white cane as his previous nurses had. But, then her next response stilled him.

"The Inuzuka clan specialize in breeding nin dog, as I'm sure you well know. What they also do is breed and train nin dogs specially for the blind, or, even retired blind shinobi. You're not the only one who's not fond of walking around poking everything in front of them with a stick," the last part was said with a little bit of humor in her voice.

"I would like to take a trip to the clan compound today; that is, if you're ok with going with me today." When he didn't say anything she stood up. "Think about it. In the meantime, I'll go on to the back porch and read so you can eat." He could hear her chair scraping back its place; her footsteps echoed; the sound of the back door opened… and then shut. He kept his head turned in that direction.

He'd come to the conclusion… that it was awfully hard to be so adverse to someone who was so perceptive. It was—therein—that much harder to want to be rid of someone who was so easy to get along with in the same space for an extended period time. For lack of a better word, he would at least admit he was… comfortable in her presence. She didn't chat on about things he didn't have much care for simply because he chose not to participate in the conversation. Nor, did she walk on eggshells around him, whether because of fear or because she felt sorry for him. No, she definitely didn't feel sorry for him; it wasn't that hard to tell. She certainly didn't revere him either; that had been one of the ongoing numerous problems he'd had with the others who'd come to care for him.

He wasn't a hero.

He supposed… while he wasn't willing to admit he was ok with anyone sticking around to babysit him… he could tolerate Haruno Sakura. She wasn't an idiot; something he was beginning to think was rare these days. Or maybe he really was too much of a hard ass on people. Probably the latter, he mused to himself.

Lucky her.

He gave a rueful sigh before eating his lunch and flushing it all down with the juice to his left. Then he got up and headed for the back door.

The rush of a summer breeze hit him, pushing his hair out of his face. The click of the door sounded behind him as he took a slight step backwards. A moment of hesitation hit him as he tried to feel her out, smell her… hear her. He turned his head, straining his ears slightly and flaring his nostrils only a little.

"I'm here," the voice called out to his right and below him. "I borrowed one of your chairs; they're pretty comfy for reading purposes."

He turned so his body faced her and tilted his head slightly downward from the direction of her voice.

"Done eating?"

He nodded.

"That's good. I hope my cooking isn't too below your preferences."

"It's satisfactory," he felt the need to tell her.

"Good to know. So," she started, a snap of paper against paper was decisive; her book again. "Are we going out or staying in?"

It was funny how this whole decision weighed on him. He fully believed if she wanted to force him out of the house to suit her needs she could find a way to do so. Threatening to immobilize him in a bed with an IV had worked fairly well the day before. It was a wholly odd sensation to be in control of something again, even if that something was as mundane as accompanying someone as they went shopping.

"Out," he murmured.

"That's good to hear. Do you need help picking out something descent to wear?"

He felt himself responding; his body barely tipped at doing so automatically, that, yes, he could and he didn't need her help… or for that matter anyone else's. Hesitation hit him and he thought. After a moment of consideration he said, "No… but…"

"Hm?" he heard.

"You'll be certain, I'm sure, not to allow me out the door looking like a lawn ornament."

He could almost see her smiling at him. "I wouldn't _allow_ myself to go out with anyone looking like a lawn ornament, no."

He nodded, suppressing a smile as his back faced her assumed position.

Yes, perhaps Haruno Sakura was tolerable after all.

…

Her left arm was comfortably tucked into his, her free hand holding a bag at her side as they walked down the market strip. Vendors, both in open air tents and indoor shops, ran along either side of the street. People passed to either side of them; children lagged behind their parents and played along corners. A trove of half heard conversations buzzed in her ears; she heard snippets here and there simply because her training dictated that she should.

He was quiet next to her, but, she could see out of the corner of her eye that he was observing everything in his own way. A subtle inhale sounded every so often; a faint turn of the head was noted.

It was unspoken, but, humorous how he'd insisted—in his own silent way—that she take his arm rather than the way she'd originally intended. She didn't mind though; he was an inch or two taller than her… barely, if that; it made the position of her arm in his feel natural in relation to her shoulder. Whenever she needed to move in another direction she merely gave him a slight tug and he moved with her. Still, she wondered if he'd been worried about the sting to his masculinity at the possibility placing his arm in hers. She'd found it too endearing to begrudge him. Being on a team with two other boys did that to a girl, now woman.

Men.

It was also odd; she didn't want to compare him to his brother, but, he was a lot like Sasuke in many, many ways. Albeit a more mature, calm and by far an incredibly grounded Sasuke… but, the thought was noted all the same. She wondered, was it inherent, or, did Sasuke try to emulate his brother? Perhaps he had at one point; brothers did that.

He hadn't done a bad job of picking out his own clothes either. A richly dark blue shirt hung just past his waist and tied close to his form with a white, thin strip of a belt; it was sleeveless and showed off his strong shoulders. The neck had a soft v-cut. Beneath that was the thin chain-mesh armor all shinobi wrapped their bodies in. It wasn't too surprising to her he'd chosen black shinobi pants; the hem cut off halfway down his calf. He forwent the wrapping about the bare part of his legs, but, kept the black sandals. She'd had nothing bad to say about his selection, and, had questioned whether he knew the colors of what he was wearing; he had. Still, after a brief look in his closet and drawers she realized she was going to have to formulate a better way for him to know what he was putting on; not everything in his wardrobe was black and blue, nor was it all nin-wear.

The most oddly nostalgic thing about it all was seeing him with his hair tied back; it was longer, his bangs were, but, she somehow felt like he'd completed himself by doing so. When he'd asked her to fix it if it looked wrong she'd found herself hesitating. She wasn't really surprised or shocked so much as she was… a little confused for the pass of five seconds; surely the person who'd _asked_ her for help wasn't the same one who'd attacked her in the kitchen two days ago.

She hadn't commented.

"Here, this way," Sakura spoke before she moved towards the overhang flap of a tented shop. Several birds chirped from both wooden and steel cages; lizards scattered in large glass jars with holes in the lids; several other critters snapped, barked and screeched at their entrance. She was happy to see the booth empty as she approached the small counter at the end of the short and narrow dirt pathway in; there was never much more room but to walk in a straight line into the tent and then out.

"Sanin-sama!" a bright, smiling and busty woman said from behind the counter. She had age lines on her face; laugh lines broke across her features as she grinned. Her plump figure, tucked tightly into a worn-with-love yukata, shook with laughter. "So good to see you again. Oh, and you've brought a friend!

"He certainly looks imposing."

Sakura returned the smile as she stopped at the counter and released Itachi's arm. "Nice to see you again, Keiko-san. You're as kind as always."

The older woman leaned onto the wooden flat top with an elbow, cheek in her palm. "You're trying to butter me up for another discount, aren't you, girl?"

"Is it working?" Sakura asked with mock curiosity.

Keiko barked laughter. "What do you need today, dearheart? Hm?"

"Same as always, but, add gecko skin to the order as well."

"Oh, you know, that stuff is better mixed into medicines fresh."

Sakura sighed. "Yes, well, you know how I am about that…"

The older woman snorted. "You're silly is what you are. Dried, frozen, fresh, it's all the same; I still have to kill the critters."

"Oh, I know…" she replied, shifting from one foot to the next; her hand went to her hip. "But, I always feel like an executioner if you make my order to go. There's just something unsettling about you taking a furry little… animal behind the tent and… well, yeah."

"You're a shinobi," the woman chuckled out.

Sakura frowned. "I didn't say it was rational."

"Good point, well, if you like you can come by the day before and place and order for fresh supplies; that way you're not present when the 'execution' occurs." She held her fingers up, doing air quotes as she said execution. There was a decisive smirk on her face as she did so.

Sakura rolled her eyes, smiling softly all the same. "I may do that." She waited patiently as Keiko gathered her purchases into a brown bag and rang them up. Itachi said nothing as the exchange went on; he hadn't through many of them.

"Goodbye, Keiko-san!"

"Have a good day, Sanin-sama!"

The sun was bright as they came out of the shadowed and cool tent. She had to lift the hand holding the bag; the strap slid to her elbow as she shaded her eyes. "Well, I think we have one more shop…"

"She called you Sanin-sama."

Green hues turned to look at glassy-grey orbs. A carefully hidden question in a statement; nice. "Since the war ended six months ago people have been calling us that." She shrugged. "I don't know who started it, but, the title seems to have developed into something generational. I imagine if Naruto, myself, or, Sasuke ever take serious apprentices they'll eventually inherit it as well.

"Tsunade thinks it's funny," she offered the information. "I wouldn't be surprised if she started the whole mess."

"You're discontented with it."

"I'm not unhappy, if that's what you mean," she replied, keeping her eyes on the road as they walked at a comfortable pace. "But, I wouldn't go so far as to call myself a hero either. I think that's really what people think of me; that I'm some sort of legend. I'm barely into my twenties."

"Compared to the farmer's child who picks potatoes you likely are."

"That's true," she conceded. "And in part because of that I realize while I may not be ready to accept it for myself, I can at least accept what other people choose to think about me."

"What's the other part?"

She smiled and looked over at him. She squeezed his arm and his head turned to her, unseeing eyes almost locked on her own. "I once read somewhere, 'Don't try to be a great man. Just be a man, and let history make its own judgments.'"

His brows rose only slightly at her statement and she laughed softly. "Granted, I may not be a man, but, I think the message still holds true."

A familiar shade of red caught her eye and she tilted her head in that direction just beyond him and to the left. "Oh, here we are," she said out loud as she pulled him gently towards a produce stand. This one was also covered by a tent, but it wasn't nearly as cramped or closed in as the other had been.

"Mia!"

"Haruno-san!"

Sakura smiled again as she greeted the violet-eyed and haired woman. She was only a year or two younger then the pinkette and just as easy to get along with. "How's business?"

"Good, good. It's hard to earn much when you're only in operation between noon and four in the afternoon, but," she shrugged, arms crossed over her chest behind a slanted counter of tomatoes, "you do what you do." She looked up at Itachi. "Who's your friend?"

"Itachi-san," Sakura replied as she glanced over at him and then back at Mia. "A colleague of mine. He's been kind enough to accompany me on daily run around town today." Sakura watched as she eyed the Uchiha curiously.

"Well, it's good to see you with someone," she replied. "The last one you brought by was a bit of a stick in the mud. He didn't seem fond of shopping."

Sakura chuckled. "Ah, yes… well… I guess some people aren't."

"Men," Mia emphasized, "generally never are. What about you Itachi-san? Do you enjoy shopping?"

His eyes were about as good in Mia's direction as he could manage, Sakura supposed. She watched him with slightly raised brows, wondering how he would reply.

"I am not entirely adverse to the act if certain conditions are met."

"And those are?" The corner of Mia's lips quirked and her brows rose considerably.

"I must be inclined to acquire something whether out of need or want."

"Is that all?"

He shook his head. "It also helps if the company is measured to be acceptable."

At this Mia laughed rather loudly. Her hand came up to cover her mouth and her eyes shut with mirth. Her body shook and her shoulders hunched slightly in the process. Eventually, she wiped her eyes, the spoils of humor creating an ache in her side. "I haven't laughed like that in a while, Itachi-san. You pass."

Sakura chuckled and Itachi raised a single brow.

"I'll explain later," she whispered with a smile. "Mia, I'll take two tomatoes, three cucumbers, a bag of your mixed fruit bundle… and…" Sakura trailed on as she eyed the many fruits and veggies. She tapped her chin. "Two red onions and a diakon."

"No problem. Let me gather and weigh it all so I can give you your total."

"Sure thing." Sakura watched as the violet-eyed woman moved back and forth on her side of the booth, gathering and measuring at a station on the other side; she jotted things down on a pad.

"Why is she only open between noon and four?"

Sakura pulled her gaze away from Mia and looked at Itachi who was still to her left. "Well… her mother works mornings and evenings, so, there's no one to take care of her retired grandparents. They don't make enough money with the stand to have Mia here to keep it open all day and her mother not working."

"Then why do you go out of your way to buy from them at such odd hours?"

Sakura smiled. "That's fairly easy to answer. Mia's family has the best vegetables and fruit. I have a sneaky suspicion it has to do with little agreement she has with Tenzou-sempai. I can't blame them though; they need an extra edge to compete with everyone else in the strip."

"Here's you are, Haruno-san." She handed her the bag and listed off the total. "Thank you," she replied as Sakura handed her the ryo.

Sakura stuff the plastic bag into the cloth one on her arm. "See you next week, Mia-san."

"Same to you, Haruno-san. Hope to see you again, Itachi-san."

Sakura gave a final wave as she moved to step out of the tent, her arm hooked through Itachi's right arm. "Alright, well, now we can head to—."

"_Sakura-chan!_"

Naruto.

Jade green hues turned to her and Itachi's left and she moved with him to face the blond. A smile almost began to form at his arrival that was, until she saw Sasuke. She would give herself credit though; she didn't frown, and, somehow she found a way to create a soft, fictional smile.

This was going to be interesting.

"Sasuke's with him," she whispered when the blonde was halfway to them. She felt the older male stiffen. "Do... do you want me to try and make an excuse to go?"

"No… it's fine." It didn't sound fine, but, she wasn't going to argue.

Naruto had his fingers locked behind his head; on his face was a grin so broad his teeth showed and his eyes shut. When he stopped in front of her he dropped his hands to his side and slackened his smile. He eyed the bag in her hand and looked back up at her face. "Shopping _again_?"

Sakura glanced in the direction of his gaze and then back up at him. "I needed a few more things. So, yes."

He scratched the back of his head, looking a little foxy as he contemplated. "Man… that's all you do now, Sakura-chan."

She merely smiled in response.

And then he blinked at her, glancing between her and Itachi. His blue orbs settled on her arm where it was joined in Itachi's. "Um… Sakura-chan…"

"Yes?"

He frowned, looking more perplexed than sad. "Are… are you on a date with Itachi-san?"

It wasn't too often the blonde caught her off guard; if it weren't for the fact that his question completely lacked couth and he'd obviously forgotten about the conversation at the restaurant yesterday, well, she'd be impressed. "No, I'm not."

"Then… why…?" he spoke while indicating with his finger at their linked arms.

A long silence passed on and Sakura found her gaze traveling towards Sasuke. She wasn't really sure how to explain it; somehow doing so felt rude and disrespectful to the man next to her. Why did Naruto have to be so dimwitted sometimes?

Sasuke's eyes were not on Naruto, or her for that matter. Instead, she found him quietly looking at his brother. It was difficult to read what was laden there; a mix of many unnamed emotions swam together.

"I really don't understand," Naruto went on, scratching the back of his head again as he looked at their linked arms.

Sasuke, finally though, did look at her; his abyssal hues locked on her own briefly before slowly turning to Naruto. "Idiot," he muttered darkly in a tone he only used on Naruto; it was meant to be both good natured and aggravated in sound at the same time.

"_What?_"

Sasuke sighed and reached over; rather suddenly, he took hold of the back of the blonde's head and grabbed a fistful of his hair.

"Ow! Sasuke! What the hell, bastard?"

Without explaining his actions he jerked Naruto's head in direction of his brother's eyes. "He's blind, you idiot," his voice was almost seething, much to Sakura's surprise.

She found her depths widening and her body jumping just barely; it wouldn't have been enough for anyone to notice but perhaps the man next to her simply because she was attached to him.

"Oh…" Naruto replied soundlessly as the wheels in his head began to turn.

Sasuke released him, looking a little disgruntled. His gaze shifted back to Sakura as his eyes opened. The look said it all without really saying anything: I'm sorry.

Naruto rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly and muttering a few incoherent sounds. His blue orbs drew back to Sakura after giving Sasuke a look. "Heh…" he muttered, sarcastic grin on his face. "And here I thought you'd found someone better after you'd been shacked up with this bastard for a month and a half." He jutted a thumb in Sasuke's direction.

Sakura, despite herself, smiled again; it was faint. "That was a while ago, Naruto."

"Feh," he bit off jokingly, "you were still head over heels. It almost feels like a waste, bringing him back for you."

Sasuke rolled his eyes.

"We came back together, Naruto," Sakura confirmed, but not really arguing with him. "But, anyway, what are you up to today?" She needed a subject change, if not for herself than at least for the younger Uchiha.

"Training," he replied as if there was nothing else to do besides eat ramen and train during the daylight hours.

"How did you date with Hinata go last night?"

His eyes brightened at that and it didn't take long for her comrade to go off on a long tangent-ridden story about his time with Hinata. All the while, the pinkette kept the corner of her vision on the two Uchiha men. Internally, she frowned; while Itachi couldn't see anything it appeared as though he were almost trying to look beyond his brother. Sasuke wasn't doing much different; he wasn't even really staring at him; more so, at his chest. A good ten minute period dragged on with Naruto giving her every detail he recalled of his time with the Hyuuga heiress before Sakura finally interrupted.

"I'm sorry, Naruto, but, I have a few more things to do today with Itachi-san. Maybe you can tell me the rest later over ramen?"

"Sounds good, Sakura-chan."

"Come on, dropout," Sasuke muttered as he went around him and took hold of his shirt, all but dragging him away.

Sakura chuckled as Naruto cursed at him even after their teammate let him go; she watched over her shoulder until they disappeared in the crowd. She turned around and looked at her charge.

"Well?"

"There is another place you've planned to visit today?"

"There is."

"Then it would seem as though we are wasting time standing here."

She smiled and then continued on in much the same direction they'd been going in before. It could have been worse, she supposed.

As they walked along the seemingly neverending market strip Sakura noted the sun in the distance; faded oranges, pinks and red dance across the sky and what light was left peaking over the larger buildings. She imagined by now it was nearing late afternoon… perhaps four or five? Had that much time really passed on? She hadn't had that much shopping to do, had she? Perhaps Naruto was right; she needed to quit her apparently unsuspecting habit.

Thankfully, Hana kept late evening hours and would likely still be about when she and Itachi made their appearance.

Green hues glanced around at the crowd, noting the change in numbers. Distinctly, she could pick out more and more headbands. Children, done at the Academy, were finally trailing home; the main market strip lead in all varying directs from the Hokage tower and from the Academy, so it wasn't entirely surprising. Many shinobi purchased things they needed from the market on their way home from missions or other duties.

However… what was beginning to become apparent to her… were the stares. Sakura was use to it; people knew her—shinobi did. Civilians who had shinobi family members, ones who were directly involved with shinobi in general for one matter or another, knew her, or, of her. Although… they weren't just staring at her… they were staring at him.

Keen, well trained ears picked up words… sentences, around her. Much of it, a lot of it, was what someone would consider good. Very little of it was bad; a lot of that was just snippets of rumors, and, even then people were quick to douse it out. If Sakura had to label it anything… she might call it… hero worship.

Sakura felt stiffening muscle under her arm; it had been gradual and she'd only just then recognized it. A faint chakra flared next to her and she looked over, bright hues half hooded in scrutiny and she took in Itachi's face. He made no expression; nothing about his lips or his eyes… nothing indicated he was bothered. The flaring chakra was so faint she positive she was the only one who noticed it.

But why…

Something snapped in her mind; a conversation from earlier, from her own mouth, rushed back at her and she understood. A soft sigh was released through the passage of her nostrils and she closed her eyes; her head turned to the road ahead.

"Just be man," she murmured only loud enough for him to hear, eyes opening once again. She felt herself repressing a smile when, after a short moment, the muscles in his arms relaxed… his eyes shut… and faintly, the corner of his lips…

…curled.

* * *

**AN :: **Drum roll please! And the answer was…! Lady Hawke! Whoohoo! To those select few who got it right, awesome job. Let me just tell all of you who have never basked in the glory that is Lady Hawke, go buy it now; rent it, watch it, steal it from a friend. But, seriously, do it. It's a great movie.

This chapter was neither awful, nor was it a trial to write. I was lucky enough to have the beginning really flow. I give huge kudos to this to Zeptha, my pseudo-beta. I told him you guys love seeing everything from Itachi's perspective as much as possible, and, I asked him whose it should be for in the opening for the scene I had in mind. So, you can thank him; that why we got into Weasel-kun's head a wee bit.

And with that… yeah, I think that's it. Oh, no! One more question! What breed of nin dog do you think I'll gift Itachi? I already know, but, I have such fun reading your reviews guessing.

—**Blade **


	5. Chapter Five

.

**Cinq|**Five

* * *

"Sakura?"

The pinkette smiled softly; she adjusted the cloth bag over her shoulder as she did so. "Hana," she greeted as she came to a stop, arm still hooked through Itachi's. They were a good many paces from the visitor door; the compound operated as a veterinary clinic, as well as, an animal nursery for breeding, so, there was more than one way in. It didn't do well to have patients constantly going through the main gate and walking the long distance around to the other side.

The brunette smiled at her as she wiped her hands with a towel. She looked a little grimy; the loose fitting shirt she donned was soaked. "You'll have to forgive my appearance. I was giving the trio a bath."

"Did you win?" Sakura joked lightly.

Hana smiled and placed her hands on her hips. "I didn't lose, but, I'm not certain I could call it a win on my part either." Her dark depths trailed over to Itachi, pausing briefly before returning to Sakura. "I doubt you're here to listen to my great bath battle however."

"I'm afraid not."

"What can I help you with?"

"I would like to start paperwork for Itachi-san to obtain a nin guide dog."

Hana didn't look surprised at all. She gave a brief nod. "No problem. Why don't you follow me into my office and have a seat until I can get cleaned up?"

Sakura glanced over at Itachi before directing him towards the door right after Hana. He was so quiet it was often hard to imagine what he was thinking. "Are you alright?"

He looked in her direction as she stopped in front of the door. "Yes," he replied. "Why would you think otherwise?"

"I'm just making sure you're comfortable with everything that's going on so far."

"I'll let you know if I'm not, Sakura."

She blinked; it was hard to suppress the brief surprise that crested across her features at the full informal use of her name on his part. Eventually, she smiled. "Alright, Itachi," she murmured before moving through the door, adjusting so they both fit through.

"Have a seat," Hana said as she motioned to the two chairs in front of the desk. "I'll be back in a moment." She left through the side door without much else.

Sakura led him towards one of the chairs. Once he got a hold of it she sat down.

Without much else to say she let her eyes wander around Hana's office. It was neither large nor small; the walls were a faint blue, giving the atmosphere a calming effect. There was a book shelf and a few shelves behind the desk; all aforementioned furniture pieces were covered in books about the vet nin's profession. Some were stacks of scrolls.

She actually wondered how it managed to be so clean; Sakura's office tended to look as if a file cabinet had exploded. Her house wasn't much better, but, her room was much worse. Ultimately, it wasn't her fault; it was just hard to find time to clean when there so much work to do at Tsunade's behest.

"Thanks for waiting," the voice called back from behind and to her right; a click echoed, indicating a door had been shut.

Green hues watched as the kunoichi smoothed out the wrinkles of her lab shirt with a high collar and came around the desk. She took a seat quickly and scooted her chair forward. Sakura watched as she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a file. Two slips of paper were pulled out and Sakura recognized them to be forms of some sort.

"You're actually in luck today, Uchiha-san. We've had the dogs out for a run."

"Oh?" Sakura asked.

Hana nodded and she began marking things down on the first sheet of paper with a pen. "After we're done here we can take Uchiha-san out and start. With any luck, he can walk out here this evening with a new companion."

"Luck?" Itachi echoed the question.

Hana stopped writing a looked up at Itachi. "You're not familiar with the process of how a nin animal comes into the partnership of his a human, are you?"

"I am not." He was not afraid to admit this fact.

"That's alright; not a lot of people are outside of the clan, and what few shinobi who choose to work with a nin animal are. Sakura," she said as she turned to the pinkette.

"Yes?"

She slid the paperwork and the pen across the desk. "I'm sure as his caregiver you can fill this paperwork out, right?"

"Aside from a few personal questions I may not know off hand, yes."

"Good. Then it'll cut our time in half while I explain how this all works to Uchiha-san." She turned back to him. Her forearms we replaced on the desk as she interlaced her fingers together. "In the case of our clan, the nin animal is chosen for the shinobi partner before they are born. It's not so much a matter of the shinobi's choice, but, of the nature of things. The clan member will approach several pregnant females and allow their chakra to interact with her unborn pups until a connection is made. It's not until after they're born that they meet.

"The process is a little different for someone like you Uchiha-san. You need an able and ready partner now; someone who is trained to see to your needs and whom with you will work effectively. Am I making sense so far?"

"Perfectly," he replied, attention apt.

She nodded. "When we are done here we'll go out to the run area and you will be taken into the center where you will sit, on the ground, so the dogs can take a look at you. Hopefully, after a while, one will choose you; they'll let you know this by trying to have their chakra interact with your own. If you allow them to, a connection can be made. Once that's done you must remain in the presence of the dog for a full twenty-four hour period so that their chakra can completely fuse with your own." She leaned forward a bit more, eyes growing serious even though she knew he could not see her. Her voice dropped to a serious note as she spoke next, "I cannot stress to you enough the importance of that dog not going more than, perhaps, several feet away from you in this timeframe. Do you understand me, Uchiha-san?"

"Yes…"

"If you do, it may not only break the connection, but, may severely crush the dog's trust in you as his partner."

"And after that period?"

"You are free to let him or her go as she pleases, if you so choose. But, you must remember one thing," she explained further, "This dog will not be your pet. They are your partner as much as anyone else was or will be on a team with you. They are a person and they will be depending you as much as you will be on them. Some people don't always understand this. Do you?"

"I do."

"Good," she said, satisfied. She glanced over at Sakura. "How are you doing?"

Sakura lifted the pen up and turned her jade green gaze to Hana's darker one. "Done. Surprisingly, I remembered what I needed to from his medical file."

"Alright, well then, let's get going."

…

There were at least fifty dogs, Sakura surmised. All of them were barking, talking and speaking a string of unrecognizable gibberish all at once. It's not that she couldn't understand them; it was hard to distinguish one word or sentence in all the noise.

"Right there's good, Sakura!" Hana called behind her at the gate. "Just let him sit down there and the dogs will do the rest!" she hollered.

Sakura looked over at Itachi; she didn't release him yet.

"I'll be fine. Go."

"Alright," she said, nodding before she released him. She took a step back, not moving until he sat down and his legs crossed in front of him meditation-style. Once he looked relaxed, his hands on his knees, Sakura turned back towards the gate and began walking. She stepped through as Hana held it open for her.

"He'll do alright," the Inuzuka female informed her as she moved to lean into the gate; her forearms rested along the top two by four.

Sakura joined her, mirroring her position on her right. "I'm not worried."

Hana smiled at her before turning her gaze back to Itachi.

Sakura watched as the dogs wove around him, poking at him, sniffing him; their mouths moved, indicating they were saying something she couldn't hear. They were all so different and came in varying shades, shapes and sizes. "Akamaru doesn't talk…" she murmured idly.

Hana shrugged. "Some have a knack for it and others don't. It doesn't really matter so long as both partners can understand each other. Most of these guys do; it's counterproductive if you have someone who's both blind and deaf or mute."

"Makes sense," Sakura concurred, pulling her arm up and placing her cheek in her palm. She smiled after the pass of another quiet moment. "You didn't have them out for a run, did you?"

"What makes you say that?"

Green hues turned towards Hana. "They're rather rambunctious for a group of dogs who've been out for a while."

Hana smirked, half smiling with a lazy demeanor. "You caught me."

"So what's the special treatment for?"

"You did right by my brother not too long ago; you watched out for him, and ensured nothing bad happened to him."

Sakura's eyes narrowed.

Hana looked over at her. "I wasn't happy about his decision to join, but, I suppose almost anybody wouldn't be in my position; I'm not my mother." The statement wasn't made to insult her; it was just a fact. Hana and Tsume were two entirely different people, and, anyone would agree Hana was by far the more calm and level headed of the two. Sakura knew her mother had been ok with Kiba's choice; she hadn't known how Hana felt.

"I think all considering, this is least I can do for you, Sakura."

She frowned. "He was on my squad; I was just doing my job."

Hana placed a hand on her shoulder and drew in close to her with a knowing smile. "Good shinobi say that, Sakura." And then she let her go and stepped back into her former position.

Sakura opened her mouth to say something, but, stopped short at the narrowed expression on Hana's face. "What?" She followed her gaze towards Itachi. She blinked. He was on his back with a rather impressive beast of a wolf-looking dog pressing him down with frontal paws.

"Rai!" Hana called out to the man about twenty yards from her walking along the fence line with a shovel.

The scruffy-looking man in a jumpsuit jerked his head up and caught Hana's gaze. "What?" he called back, cupping his hand over his mouth.

"What the hell is Noin doing in there?"

The guy name Rai glanced over into the run and scratched the back of his head. He looked back at Hana. "You didn't tell me someone was coming by to see the dogs! I wouldn't have let her out if I knew!"

Hana released an agitated growl, grimacing as she turned away from the worker and back to Itachi. Her hands gripped the fence, lips still twisted into a partial frown that showed her fangs. The red slash marks on her face only seemed to enhance the expression of displeasure.

"What's wrong?" Sakura asked, brow knit as she too frowned.

Hana sighed. "It's not a big deal… I guess." She turned to her, leaning into the gate with her left side, arm propped on the top. "Noin is retired."

"Ok…"

"She had a female partner for a long time; the girl wasn't an Inuzuka. She died protecting Noin. Normally, when that happens, the dog goes to the shinobi's family unless there's some conflict of interest or if they can't take on the dog. But, in Noin's case… her partner didn't have a family; she was an orphan and had always been one. Noin _was_ her family." Hana's lips turned more sad than upset as they had been before as she glanced over at Itachi and the dog. "We tried placing her with a new partner, but, she didn't go for it. And well… most shinobi weren't interested in her anyway…"

"Why?" Sakura asked, brow knitting further. Now she was curious.

"Noin's got a bad back leg. Believe me when I say it doesn't stop her from being the best she can be… but, when it comes to shinobi…"

"…They want the best; I get it." Sakura looked back at the scene before her. "How'd her leg get messed up?"

"During the fight with the enemy nin when her partner died," she replied. "We've since tried placing her with someone as a guide dog, but, she's grown accustomed to so much rejection she just doesn't give a damn anymore. It doesn't exactly help that she's twenty either."

"_Twenty?_" Sakura couldn't help the surprise in her voice, nor could she stop her wide eyes from turning back to Hana.

"It's not very old for a nin dog. They live longer, as we do, because of the active use of chakra. The average lifespan of a non-partnered nin dog is about fifty to sixty years. With a human partner that doubles and meets the age of their human companion. It's not entirely uncommon for a nin dog to die shortly after their companion does given a situation where the shinobi lives… say… a hundred and twenty years."

Sakura found herself boggled by the information that animals could live so long; it made sense though, given how old Tsunade was. Without much else, she turned back to watch Itachi. "Do you think she'll partner with him?"

"It'd be nice if she did, wouldn't it?"

…

"He's got a funny aura about him, don't he?"

"Dark."

"He's not so bad looking."

"Scary, if you ask me."

"Nah, he's not scary; just formidable."

"Uchiha's are like that, ya know."

"I've never met one."

"That's cause you're still a pup, Dango. Most of 'em died a while back."

"He's got funny looking eyes."

"He'd blind, Sid. Dumbass, that's why he's here."

"Don't call me that."

"When you say stupid things…"

They were all different voices; some of them gruff, some of them old, some of them young, and some of them soft. He stiffed the first time a snout bumped him from behind; his body jerked when yet another brushed up against his side. At one point he felt a tuff of small fur in his lap, seeking attention. He'd directed his head downward, unsure of what to do until the small mass pushed its head under his hand.

A smile tugged at his lips, but, evaporated as a cold nose poked at his ear and then his neck. Hot breath expelled across his partially bare shoulder. He had to stop himself from completely lifting his hand and pushing the dog away from him. In this time frame the mutt in his lap had gotten up and perched its paws on his chest. He could sense from their body movement that their tail was wagging excitedly.

"Micah, get down. He doesn't want to smell your breath," another voice said.

"I just wanted to see his eyes. They say Uchihas got these red eyes."

He heard a snort and then the little imp in his lap got down, scampering off somewhere.

There was more bumping, smelling, prodding, rubbing and those insisting he pet them over and over again. The actions did not bother him; rather, he was a little fascinated by all the conversation spilling around him, as well as, the commotion they were making over him. He'd never owned a pet; his father hadn't seen it as much of an advantage when he was younger. These dogs weren't pets… but, the whole process was interesting to someone like him nonetheless.

"Hey, Noin," he heard a familiar voice say, the one that had told the dog Micah to get off of him. "You actually taking some interest this time?"

There was nothing after that; however, he was vaguely aware of the other dogs backing away from him, dislodging themselves from his grasp and all but disappearing from his close proximity—accept for one.

His lids lowered, his eyes narrowing as he turned his head in the direction of the presence he felt in front of him. Judging by the faint smell of the dog… and his own keen awareness… they were maybe… six inches in distance from him.

"Hello, Uchiha." The voice that greeted him was… smooth, soft and deep. It was that of a female, unlike many of the other voices had been around him.

"Hello," he murmured back. He heard her moving, sensing her sudden closeness. His head turned towards his left as soft, thick fur ran across his arm. Then it came across his back. The erratic bursts of breath through her mouth and nose alerted him of her coming around to his right, sniffing him.

"A little damaged aren't we, Uchiha?" he heard.

A single brow rose as he placed his eyes in direction of her voice.

"Tell me, why are you here? What is it you are hoping to gain by receiving a guide nin?"

She was in front of him again, but, much closer; her breath fanned across his face. Despite the urge he felt to pull back and away from her, he did not. "Independence," he responded, voice even. He wasn't sure what she was fishing for, but, it was an honest answer.

"Have you ever had an animal partner?"

"No."

"Hm," he heard her mutter.

"Being a bit overbearing, aren't ya, Noin?" another dog snickered.

She growled, low and long in their direction. "Don't cross me, Fitz."

Another snicker.

She'd turned back to him; he could tell by the direction of her breathing. "You don't smell like a team player. You're not use to depending others."

He hesitated, just barely considering his next words. "You don't strike me as the sort either." It was in the moment after that sentence passed his lips he found himself on his back; a sharp rock cut into his spine as paws pressed into his pectoral. Her mouth was much closer to his face this time, aggressive heat expelling forth. His first reaction had been to shove her off, but, he'd reminded himself this was not the place to get defensive no matter how badly his body cried out he do something.

It wasn't often he had to force himself to being at another's mercy; lately, he had to more of that than he liked.

"I lost my partner of seventeen years three years ago, Uchiha. Don't bother trying to read me, or, what I am.

"When you find yourself aching as you watch the one you love more than anything in this life fade from existence," she spat, "their soul siphoning out of their eyes as you lie _helpless_ to do nothing else… then you can pretend to understand what partnership means…"

"What do you want from me?" he finally asked as her words washed over him.

She stiffened and her breath jumped, pausing and flocculating its consistent movement across his skin. "Why I should come to depend on you, Uchiha?

"I've asked other men the same question; those brats fresh from the Academy… even some ANBU who get a wild hair up their ass to own a nin dog…" He was a little surprised by her chuckle, dark as it was. "Problem is… none of them want _damage goods_.

"Maybe that's why you intrigue me, Uchiha. You're a little bit broken too… in more than your eyes…

"Why would you want to depend on me…?"

He found himself wondering how she was damaged, aside from the obvious trauma in losing her partner. At that moment though, his careful mind began to work around her words; his heart jumped to action, talking against well-formed logic.

"Why wouldn't I?"

He felt the bite of her claws in his chest rather suddenly and swiftly. Her snout was dangerously close to his ear as she spoke next. "Most shinobi don't want a lame legged partner," she bit off.

He stilled; it was like being hit with a cold bucket of water. Damaged goods, helpless, lame legged… _Rejection_. It washed over him, filling his mind, his heart, with a vague sense of familiar feelings. He closed his eyes and found himself…

…laughing.

Her surprise was evident in way she shifted above him.

"I'm blind," was all he said, not quite able to stop the smile that curled across his features. "I will be blind for the rest of my life," he said next, unafraid of what finally voicing it really meant.

He could feel her eyes boring into him.

"I think he's really lost it."

"Shut up, Fitz," he heard her snap without moving her head in the direction of the sarcastic dog.

She was analyzing him, he could tell. He could sense from her that same quiet he always took on himself when he was thinking something over, revealing nothing. His body suddenly jerked on its own, surprising him as he felt something warm… Her chakra.

And then her careful laughter came. "We're both just two broken tools, aren't we, Uchiha?"

He didn't respond, but, the smile remained as he allowed his chakra to mix with hers, chaining together and locking in some wholly new way he'd never experienced before.

It was much later he was walking back towards the two women, the binding complete.

"How do you feel?"

"Better," he replied to Hana, reveling in the fact that for the first time in his life he could walk on his own outdoors without holding onto someone, even if it was at the linked direction of the dog beside him.

"Good," her voice sounded cheerful. "Take good care of Noin. She was one of Kuromaru's. My mother's partner would be most displeased if you did badly by his pup."

"Understood," he murmured.

Noin snorted. "You should be directing that order to me, Hana-sama."

"Be nice, Noin," the vet replied playfully with a smile.

Noin rolled her eyes.

"I'll have a bag of feed delivered to your house, Uchiha-san," Hana offered. "Let me know when you need more so we can set up a regular delivery date.

"Oh, and, you can feed her table scraps… just not all the time."

He nodded.

Sakura, as they spoke, knelt down on front of the dog. She offered her hand carefully and smiled when the fluffy, black and white wolfish female placed her head under her hand. "You're very pretty… and soft. But, what type of dog are you, hm?" She narrowed her green hues on Noin's icen ones; they were strikingly beautiful now that she had a chance to finally see her up close.

"A husky variant," Noin replied, looking to be raising a brow at Sakura.

"Regular chakra use over the generations tends to make them bigger," Hana offered as she caught the conversation below her. "Noin comes from a long line of nin dogs."

"Makes sense," Sakura replied, smiling again. She stood up and faced Itachi. "Ready to head home? It's nearing seven and we still haven't eaten dinner."

He nodded once in her direction and turned back to Hana. "Thank you."

"No problem, Uchiha. Don't be stranger. Well," she said with a grin, "I guess you won't be now, considering we're the only vet that specializes in nin animals in Konoha, right?"

"Of course," he responded.

"Bye, Hana. Let's go," Sakura said, suddenly very close to him, looping her arm through his.

He opened his mouth to tell her it was no longer necessary, but… something stilled him, and, nudged him to remain as they were… linked, until they made it home and she consciously extracted herself from his arm.

He would think about it later.

…

It wasn't quite hot enough yet to really kick her pours into gear, trailing a liquid sheen down the center of her back; which, was likely the one reason she enjoyed mornings during the summer so much, and, why she got up earlier than she really had to.

Boot-sandal clad feet beat softly into the dirt path as hands were dug into her pink apron pockets in a relaxed manner. A soft breeze flew past suddenly, upsetting her cotton candy strands and tousling her chin-length bangs. Unconsciously, she reached up and brushed her hand through it, noting it had gotten longer in her absent thoughts. She supposed it wasn't so bad, coming just past her shoulders; it's not like she had a real reason to keep it one length or another anymore. Sasuke's opinion on the matter certainly didn't bother her. Although, she would like to know, now that she was thinking on it, if that whole long hair thing had really just been a rumor concocted by a gathering of cackling preadolescent hens.

She smiled at the idea as she put her free hand back into her pocket.

He'd never seemed to mind her hair when they'd been together… the month and a half the relationship lasted anyway.

She shook her head, removing her mind from those thoughts as the white washed walls of the Hyuuga compound came into view. She had other things to do today besides think about her past pitfalls.

"Sakura," she heard to her right as she passed through the open gate.

She smiled brightly. "Tenten." The older woman clapped her on the back in a friendly manner.

"What brings you here?"

"I need a word with your fiancé. He around?"

"Neji?" she gave her a crooked smile. "What? Did he do something wrong? He didn't miss an appointment at the hospital, did he?"

Sakura shook her head, smiling. "No, he's actually good about that. I just need to ask him about some techniques."

The weapon's mistress tapped her chin and pondered.

At twenty-three Tenten was really someone Sakura could admire, if not look up to a little. Alongside Neji, she'd almost single-handedly taken on the Hyuuga elders and helped bring about the banishment of the separation of the branch and main house, as well as, the archaic practice of branding the branch members. The pinkette had no doubt that had to do with the fact that she one day planned on giving birth to Neji's children; Sakura couldn't see herself going quietly on the matter of burning imprisoning marks into her kid's heads either. And really, when it came to women being their own person, kunoichi especially, she and Tenten most firmly saw eye to eye.

Kindred spirits, if nothing else.

"You know, normally he's practicing here in the open front dojo," she finally replied, locking chocolate browns on emerald greens. "But, I think today he may have gone to one further in the back. Have you been there before?"

Sakura shook her head. "No, I don't think I have."

"I'll take you then; come on." She placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her in the direction of the well worn path behind her; it was the way she'd just come.

"When's the wedding?" Sakura asked, deciding to make small talk. It wasn't often she saw the brunette anyhow; not since she started spending so much of her time at the compound in between what missions she had with her team.

Tenten reached up, pushing an oddly thin and overgrown branch out of their way. She was careful not to catch her white, slightly belled robe sleeve on the thorny limb. "We haven't set one yet; mostly because we still haven't decided where we're going to have it.

"His uncle keeps hinting we have it here; I'm not really feeling that. Don't get wrong, it's pretty in the compound, but, I want something more personal to me and Neji. Also, I don't want our outside guests to feel out of place."

"I get that," she replied. "It's pretty, but, I don't think I'd want to get married where I'm going to be living for the rest of my life."

Tenten snorted. "Yeah, well, I'm not fond of that idea either."

"Living here? Isn't that part of the deal?"

"Eventually," she agreed. "But, I want us to have our own peace for a while. I want to be away from this mess until the elders croak," she muttered without an ounce of remorse. "I'm silently praying when Hinata and he take dual control of the clan the oppressive air that seems to cling to this place siphons itself out.

"I mean, I get we'll have to move in at some point; especially when we decide to have kids, ya know? But, I'd like to have him to myself for at year or two. He needs to have a place to come home to that doesn't make him feel like he's being suffocated under duty and expectations."

Sakura shook her head, once again noting to herself how amazing the brunette was. "I don't think I could handle all this the way you do."

"You will one day if you marry into a clan."

Sakura chuckled. "If I marry. I may end up an old bachelorette like Kakashi; well, in his case it's bachelor…" she added offhandedly, even if it went without saying.

"If that's your prerogative. You certainly wouldn't be the first kunoichi to go that route.

"It's just too bad things didn't pan out with Sasuke, huh?"

Sakura shrugged; at this point it didn't really sting anymore. That ache had turned into something dull, only feeling numb when someone decided to rub over it with cautious digits. Tenten wasn't tentative, thankfully; she just said what was on her mind. No eggshells; for that she was grateful, as there were none to worry about stepping on anymore.

"I guess we just didn't meet on the same level like you and Neji do, huh?"

"I don't see why not. You're both a lot alike these days."

_In some ways, yes; in others…_ She let her inner voice travel on. "Maybe. We just decided we made better friends," she allowed the partial lie to slip free, guiltless.

The brunette let it go. "Ah here we are," she murmured as they stepped through the archway leading out onto the large, stone, outdoor dojo. It overlooked an expressive and expansive garden several levels down; grey stairs to either side a good forty feet from where she stood.

Sakura's eyes trailed over towards Neji running through a series of exercises and Tenten pointed him out.

"He's worked up a fine sweat," the weapon mistress commented softly, smiling knowingly as she took in his bare upper form. "Neji!" she called, stepping out toward him.

Sakura followed.

He jerked in his movement, cool opaque hues blinking in Tenten's direction; they shifted towards Sakura as he straightened out of his stance and smiled. "Sakura."

The pinkette smiled back, stopping in front of him. "Morning, Hyuuga."

He reached behind him and pulled out the small hand towel that had been hanging from the waistband of his loose pants. The soft material drew over his face, soaking up moisture that dared to sting his eyes. "You don't come by often," he noted.

"She came to see you," Tenten offered.

At this he raised a brow. "Oh?"

"I need to ask you about techniques, if that's alright."

"Having trouble with that flash jutsu again?"

She shook her head, grinning. "Oh no. That one worked out remarkably well the last time I used it on Sasuke."

"Good to hear," he replied with a play smirk as he slapped the towel over his left shoulder.

"I'm heading out, Neji. Hinata wanted to have the morning with me for some shopping, but, I'll be back for lunch."

He nodded as she came over. The brief kiss she gave him provided and ample curl of his lips, but, not nearly enough to be Naruto-like. "Alright, love."

Sakura watched her retreating back as she left through the same archway they'd come in at.

"What is it you need my help on again?"

She smiled brightly, turning her face to him. "Chakra expulsion. I've got a theory and I need your help since your clan appears to specialize in that. Up for some fun?"

His laughter was deep and more like a chuckle. "I would say Shikamaru was better suited for you puzzle picking, but, sure.

"Hit me, Haruno."

…

A breeze shifted by, unusual and a welcome reprieve from the heat that likely all of Konoha was suffering from and avoiding by placating themselves indoors. He tilted his head upward, lips pursing across a quizzical expression. His mind was elsewhere, but vaguely acknowledging the weather at the same time.

The long pajama pants that hung about his legs, hems dropping about in a pool around his heels, felt stuffy; some parts of the material stuck to his skin from the ever present sweat. His bare chest met with almost no discontent; what moisture lingered in faint trails alleviated some level of the temperature in combination with the forgiving breeze.

He reached up, giving a sigh as his eyes half shut and he combed a hand through his unbound strands. Each movement caused the chair to squeak slightly under him; he barely heard it and went on enjoying his position on the back porch, where the heat was much less than inside.

Yesterday was a whirlwind of events; first, he'd left the house, something he hadn't done in months; second, he now found himself in possession—correction—in a _partnership_ with Noin; and thirdly… he'd run into his brother for the first time in at least _six_ months. The first two experiences weren't bad, but, they left him with usual feelings; he shrugged that off to his routine being disturbed. He generally felt a sense of unwarranted foreboding whenever that happened. And for someone who'd been going about the same daily routine of tolerating intolerable caregivers while at the same time trying to dislodge them from his presence, the past few days as a whole had been very foreboding, but, not unwelcome.

It wasn't all that surprising that Sakura had been in a relationship with his little brother; he'd known numerous things about team seven in the past because it had been his prerogative to keep an eye out for Sasuke. What had been a little surprising was that she wasn't anymore. From what intelligence he'd always gathered she'd always been enamored with Sasuke, determined to do anything for him, and, it was hard to imagine that sense of devotion had wavered so easily in the pass of a month and a half. But then, she was a lot older now… a lot… there wasn't a word. He didn't have anything to compare it to because he hadn't known her years ago. It wasn't that hard to imagine she'd changed however; every description of her he'd been given, as brief as they were, painted a picture to him that Sakura had been like a lovesick puppy trailing after his brother. To think the woman he was interacted with now had been anything like that… he couldn't fathom it.

Was she still in love with Sasuke? He hadn't missed the way she'd narrowly changed the subject yesterday when Naruto had made his friendly comments. It wasn't his business to know though; it had nothing to do with him, so, he had no reason to go digging for information (even if he could).

His mind redirected his thoughts, refocusing on his brother.

He couldn't help the ache that had burned the moment Sakura gave her small warning, offering them an out. He wasn't going to run though, not from Sasuke; he'd silently given that vow six months ago when all of his delicate plans had unraveled, telling himself he would be there when his younger brother was ready to come talk to him. He wasn't going to push anything. As time had passed on he'd considered going to him… but then, what would he say, really? What did anyone say after everything that had been amassed between the two of them?

He'd once tried to write them down, the words that wouldn't come; it was for his own benefit if nothing else, even if he never planned to send the letter to Sasuke. It went without saying the process of trying to do so without eyesight was more than enough to aggravate someone less patient. But, he was patient, despite how six long months of darkness has twisted his exterior into something else. And yet… no words came. What he'd tried to scribble down… was pathetic even as he memorized them with each ink stroke in his own mind, visualizing the words and trying them out on his tongue.

How did one apologize… for something so… irreprehensible? How did you even begin to explain your actions? How did one ask for forgiveness for something they'd never really forgiven themselves about?

"You're brooding again, Itachi," he heard the muffled tone of Noin relaxing next to him on the porch. He could tell by her voice she hadn't bothered to sit up and look at him; he imagined her eyes were closed and she comfortably feigned dozing.

He sighed.

"When does Sakura get here?"

"Soon," he murmured.

"It's almost ten… Have you eaten breakfast?"

He frowned. "Yes."

He could hear her moving around; probably sitting up. She yawned, squeak of a noise echoing on the air. "Right then…"

"She told me last night she wouldn't be here until almost lunch; she had something to do and left me an omelette to heat in the microwave. Satisfied?"

"I didn't say I wasn't."

He resisted the urge to snort and placed his cheek on his knuckles, elbow on the arm of the wicker chair. He could hear the dog next to him stretching, her nails scraping against the wooden floorboards; there was a distinct pop (likely in her back) and a groan of satisfaction. He didn't jump when she rubbed her nose under his freely dangling right hand. Unconsciously, he rubbed her behind her ears and she moved where she wanted him to rub.

"It's hot today," she observed. "Aren't you uncomfortable in sweat pants?"

"Only slightly."

"No shorts?"

His lips almost twitched into a frown as he tried to imagine what he would look like, almost as pale as snow, in shorts. "...No."

"Masochist," she mumbled.

This time he did smile rather lazily. It faded as he felt a surge of chakra not too far away. The distinct click-slam of the front door to his home echoed through the open screened windows. Noin jerked out from under his hand.

"Sakura's here."

"It would appear so."

"Itachi?" The sound of her voice lingered from within; he heard her footpads as she came towards the back door. It creaked open and he turned his head in her direction.

"Ah, there you are," she said, smile in her voice as she came closer to him. She moved past him, he could feel it. The legs of a chair clattered along the floor. He shifted back once he realized she was placing herself in front of him; the chair creaked, indicating she'd sat down. The direction of her voice proved this as she spoke. "How was breakfast? Did you have trouble with the microwave?"

He shook his head. "I followed your instruction from the night before."

She chuckled lightly. "Good, I was a little worried you'd burn it."

He didn't comment, but, he did find his lips twitching into something akin to a smile.

"You're far better looking when you do that."

He blinked.

She laughed then and he found it lyrical, even if it was at his expense (and he was sure it was). It wasn't at all unlike that morning when he'd nearly cut her throat to shreds, or, when he'd given her an unusual opening to tease him about what he was going to wear out. Her humor was candid… and took a little talent not to miss. It was all the things she didn't say that made it funny, he supposed. He realized then it'd been so long since he'd _wanted_ to laugh, to smile. It wasn't in his nature to be so hateful… at heart… For years he'd had to go beyond that; for the last six months… it was difficult not to be bitter. It wasn't just being blind, although that didn't help.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

It wasn't hard to let his mind travel back to his brother, his ruined plans, his life as it stood now. All the things he wanted gone in the blink of a moment because someone had magically found a way to fix him, bleeding and barely breathing on an operating table stained with his own blood.

He closed his eyes. In the same instant they snapped open and a fierce pain pierced his hand. He inhaled sharply, teeth grinding together as his jaw flexed; he snatched his hand up reflexively.

"You're brooding again," Noin offered innocently, as if that were a tangible excuse to bite his hand.

"I think you're going to be more trouble than your worth," he found himself saying uncharacteristically, sarcastically.

"Well, quit being a stick in the mud and maybe I won't be."

He could well imagine Sakura with her hand over her mouth, eyes bright as she tried to stifle a laugh; he knew she was because he heard something that _sounded_ like a laugh, as least a stifled one.

"So," she finally said across from him, "Are you hungry?"

"I ate two hours ago. I'm fine."

"Then I'll make you lunch at noon. Is that alright?"

He nodded, flexing his hand to draw away the lingering pain.

"Alright, well, did you get a chance to look over any of those books I left you? I realize I didn't have time to really go over them with you, but, I do think I told you where they were.

"I did, didn't I?" she asked quizzically.

He nodded again. "You did. I skimmed them over and started one last night before bed."

"Wonderful." He heard her hands clap together. "I'm made sure to get a few of the ones I got for you in a regular copy. If you don't mind, we can read them together and talk about them. Unless you're adverse to discussing books.

"I usually have Sai to do that with. Naruto and Sasuke aren't particularly fond of reading," she admitted with a smile in her voice again.

He took a moment to think before he responded to her request. He easily found there was nothing unpleasant at possibly discussing books with Sakura, and, it would certainly give him something else to do; he liked talking to her, he realized in the same moment. "That would be fine," he replied.

"Well, then I guess I just have one more question for you."

A single brow quirked up questioningly. "And what is that?"

She was suddenly a little closer, but not close enough to make him uncomfortable. "Well, I've been thinking… When was the last time you trained? Put your body through a good workout, or, perhaps had the opportunity to fight someone?"

He processed the information slowly, trying to figure out what she was getting at. When no real answer presented itself, he replied honestly, "I usually take an hour out every morning before you arrive to work through a series of drills. Beyond that…" he trailed off, lingering images in his mind resurfacing, "…six months ago." He knew she would need little more of an explanation than that.

"Alright… well," she began hesitantly, "what would you say to maybe giving it a more strenuous try?"

"How so?" His eyes narrowed reflexively in her direction.

"I was at the Hyuuga compound this morning, speaking with Neji," she answered directly. "That's why I've been gone for a few hours. I came to him with a theory I wanted to try in combination with the chakra expulsion his clan is famous for when they use the Hakkeshō Kaiten."

Itachi was familiar—vaguely—with the technique. "That's the jutsu that requires the user to spin very rapidly as they send chakra out from their body forcefully."

"Right," she agreed. "I wasn't so much interested in that, but the fact that the Hyuuga can send chakra out from their bodies when using it; not just one part at one time, all parts at the same time. Not very many shinobi have a need to send so much chakra out from all chakra points on the body like the Hyuuga do so offensively.

"Thus, why I went to speak with Neji."

"…Alright."

"We worked for a few hours, trying out a few things. It would have taken a lot longer if we had to start from nothing. The good news is, because it wasn't that hard for Neji and I, I'm almost positive it will only take a few attempts to grasp and execute.

"Are you interested?"

"What is it?"

He heard her take a deep inhale, as if she were preparing herself… or… excited? Was she?

"The user sends chakra out from all points on their body, but not offensively like the Hyuuga do," she explained. "The chakra they send outward hits anything with chakra and it bounces back to the user. When it does, it gives the user a visualization of the area around him, within a reasonable distance.

"Basically put, chakra sonar." She paused, perhaps trying to gauge his reaction. "Anyway, you can't really use this in the field without being detected, but, you can use it in direct combat, or, for training. It doesn't require a lot of chakra all the time. However, you do send a good amount out in a short burst. You just have to watch your timing and the number of bursts; if you're careful you can you it quite a few times in a fight very effectively as with any of your other senses."

There wasn't an expression he found acceptable in response to her revelation. The very idea that he might be able to see… something, somehow, tugged at a very vulnerable part of him. "It works?" he asked softly.

"It does."

"What do I have to do?"

She took his hand, tugging on him; he allowed her to as he stood up. He allowed her to lead him down the stairs and out into the back yard, not quite processing her hand in his. He could vaguely acknowledge Noin's footpads in the grass not far behind him, following.

"Alright, here's good," he heard her say, releasing his hand.

"I'll be over here," he heard Noin say some few feet away.

"No worries," Sakura replied. "Ok," she started, voice redirected toward him and close; there was maybe… six inches between them, maybe eight.

There was a slow and careful warmth on his upper abdomen; he realized it was her hand, flattened.

"When was the last time you used chakra? Well," she began, obviously clarifying, "when was the last time you used chakra to execute a jutsu of B rank or higher?"

"Months," he replied almost numbly. It shouldn't bother him, truthfully; however, it did.

He didn't like bloodshed, war, death… the smells… the sounds. In the mix of it all, he would have been content to never have to lift another sword, kunai, anything with an ability to do real harm.

But he hadn't become a shinobi to hurt people; he'd become one to protect people.

Regardless of what his father had wanted, regardless of being pressured—forced—into ANBU, he had always wanted to be the type of man who chose his own destiny; he had in the end, no matter what had been ordered of him.

The thoughts trailed off and he let them hang.

Sakura's voice was soft in his ear. "Consider this then… You might not get it the first time. Don't beat yourself up if you don't; alright, Itachi?"

He nodded slowly.

Her hand pressed a little firmly and he resisted the urge to jump, realizing he still wasn't wearing a shirt and that was her _bare_ hand just between the area of his stomach and his lungs.

"First, you need to focus your chakra here, where it starts. Concentrate on the direction it turns and visualize it in your mind; imagine it increasing its speed and allow that action to exist.

"Second, see that chakra pulling to every pour along your skin; see it as it brims on the edge of the millions of chakra point exits. This is the hardest part; you have excellent chakra control, Itachi; much like myself, but… again don't get discouraged. You're focusing on a lot of areas at once.

"The third part will come once you execute these steps." She pulled her hand away and stepped back. "Start when you think you're ready. And don't forget to take your time."

He took a shallow breath as he closed his eyes unnecessarily; at the same time both hands were brought up and clasped together and formed the focusing sign of ram. His visualized his chakra, turning, pooling, generating in his core; he did as he had been instructed, imagining it twisting faster… spiraling… He could feel it within; the life energy burned, boiling brighter and more rapidly.

"That's good, Itachi," he barely heard Sakura say. "Keep going."

Focusing on so many chakra points at once was not as easy as he imagined it might have been; he'd never had to before. That combined with how long it had been since he'd used chakra so actively…

His brow knit even as his face remained impassive.

_Focus_.

Chakra spun through his system, pouring into the complex and tiny veins that were smaller than his blood vessels. They sunk beyond his muscle fiber, the layers of skin and hung just on the edge.

He exhaled.

"Hold it there," she instructed quickly.

He did, even as he sought to release it or break that complex multitasked hold that cross sectioned his focus in varying directions over his body. He could see nothing but where the blue-green energy existed and hear nothing but her voice when she chose to speak.

The next time she spoke it was to tell him a series of five hand signs; she repeated them with emphasis and told him that when he was ready, to do them and release the technique.

"The hand signs are there to help; eventually, with practice, you won't need them anymore, knowing you."

Her acknowledgement of his abilities were unexpected, but, not unwanted. The thought was fleeting and he almost lost focus. Once regained, he slowly brought his hands through the signs. At this, the chakra brimmed, rippled and…

…_expelled_.

He vaguely heard her whisper, "Perfect."

Within what he imagined was a mere second, time exploded slowly. A frozen moment expanded around him, encompassing and touching. There was no color aside from the predictable blue-green; he didn't care.

His throat caught; his heart jumped; his breath stopped.

He could… see.

Trees, a forest beyond his back yard, flowers, the detailed imprinted vein-work on leaves, the in-ground lines of natural bark, a beetle paused half crawl, Noin mid-perking her ears up as she lifted her head…

…Sakura.

There was a growing smile in the image stuck in his mind; her hand was lifting, stilled as if she'd been drawing it up to her face or her chest. He couldn't see the distinction between her pupils, her irises and her eyes as a whole; her lashes were longer than he recalled, her hair as well. The erratic strands were a choppy pixie-like mess rolling over her shoulders. It suited her.

She was tall, much taller than the last time he'd been able to set real eyes on her. The clothes were same, though; it was just as he'd imagined them, but now with clearer details. It wasn't a skirt, but a medic apron; there were tights underneath; boots that ran knee high. A headband held her hair back somewhat… A Konoha headband.

"Itachi?"

Her voice was much closer, but she hadn't moved; he had. His hands were on her face. His thumbs pressed into her cheeks in the next moment, the pads of his fingers under her jaw; she was warm.

Calloused thumbs swept down, tracing her image in his mind again. Her eyes shut as he continued, running careful digits over the edges of her lashes, down her nose, across her forehead… along her bottom lip. The contours, the shape of her features, reappeared in his mind. He could see feminine ridge of her brow, the fullness of her lips, the curl of her lashes, and the angular simplicity of her face… all of it.

The lack of color was meaningless; it didn't matter that it only lasted for a freeze framed moment in time, only to exist in his memory; it didn't matter that he had to execute a technique to do so every time; it didn't even matter that it was brief and half hazed in detail.

He could see.

He could _see_.

"Thank you," he found himself saying as he held her face, so utterly wrapped up in the processes of his thoughts and what it all meant. There weren't words to really explain how he felt, the level of appreciation that existed in just those _two_ words. This one moment meant more to him than anything else anyone had tried to do for him in the last six months… the last _ten years_ of his life.

Even so, they felt… pathetic on his tongue; and yet, nothing else came, nothing else felt plausible.

Her felt a warmth around his wrists; it settled, soft a gripping. Her hands.

"You're welcome, Itachi."

* * *

**AN :: **This took me… three… four days to write? If it feels broken that's because I had a lot of ground I wanted to cover. There were some things in this chapter that were supposed to be split into two chapters; and yet, it felt right to me putting it all in one chapter. I suppose with this story the chapters are more like episodes of a short series rather than novel chapters.

As usual, if you feel up to letting me know what you think, thanks.

**As for the dog**, I got a lot of responses about what type of nin dog people guessed he would end up with; many of them were funny, candid and cute. Very few of them forced me to do a google search, and, at least three people (if I recall right) mentioned a Chihuahua in jest. When I posted last chapter I knew it would be a Husky; I own a Husky mix and I love her dearly. They're wonderful dogs. Naturally, in a real world setting, not so great for seeing-eye. But, this is Naruto and they're not normal dogs; thus, it works. The idea to make her one of Tsume's nin dog's pups was an afterthought that felt right to me; I think she has the attitude that works.

I really would like to have your opinions about the end there and Itachi's reaction. I really try to show more than tell, but, in this instance it was a little difficult for me with so much plaguing his mind.

Reviews are appreciated, but not required.

—**Blade**


	6. Chapter Six

.

**Six|**Six

Sidestep.

Pivot.

Roundhouse.

_Air_.

Exhale.

Grass, dirt and gravel ground under his sandaled feet; at the same time, he shifted and blocked. The friction of a shirt sleeve against bare flesh burned beyond the material he wore, biting into the skin underneath his forearm. He pushed the arm away; in his mind flashed an image that was bounced back; his left hand came out, smacking against her tight and leather wrapped fist.

He held.

_A moment; the beat of his heart in his ears—once._

Laughter.

He shoved her away, using the momentum and chakra infused in his soles to jump back. But he could feel her, smell her, and hear her as she came at him—relentless.

"Maybe next time we should use weapons."

"Perhaps."

He was sure she was grinning; she was—he saw, reactivating the technique.

"Think you're ready for that?"

She was close; he could feel her moving. Blue-green activated an image in his mind. He reacted at the last moment; one hand came up and wrapped about her wrist, keeping it from hitting his left cheek. In the same instance, his right palm came to her upper abdomen. Solid muscle contracted under his touch as the force of the action had her hitting the ground. Air left her lungs in a rush. His hands closed over her wrists, pressing them into the dirt and grass; he settled on her hips, pinning her.

"I think I would much prefer your opinion over mine, _sensei_." His voice remained muted and lacked inflection.

Her laughter was instantaneous, bright, and as uplifting as he imagined. Was she smiling? Smirking? Grinning? He activated the technique again.

Smirking.

His expression mirrored hers.

"I believe it's fair to say you're ready for weapons." Her tone continued to reflect her previous humor. "Non-ranged… Itachi-_kun_."

At first he wasn't sure what to make of _that_. The use of his name with the honorific most normally used in regard to _much_ younger men stilled him with a sweep of confusion—as if he couldn't quite believe she'd used it at all. And then… he chuckled; a grin tugged at his lips, revealing a scant of teeth.

"Taichou then? Perhaps sempai?" she asked next.

"I was never your captain," he felt the need to tell her between half-hearted attempts to refrain from laughing. "Nor was I ever the senior officer of your team, or, your rank."

"True," she replied and he knew she was grinning; he could almost see the hidden glint in her eyes. "Comfortable?" she asked next.

It wasn't as if he'd been wholly unaware of the fact that he still held her down, hands on her wrists as he straddled her lap—effectively making her as immobile as was fair for the agreed match; however, that she'd mentioned it, brought it to the forefront in his mind, created a situation where he wasn't entirely sure how to respond to it just yet. His instinctive reaction was to get up and offer her a hand up, but…

It was odd when you weren't fighting for your existence, pretending to be something you weren't so your younger sibling could rebuild a family into something better than it had been when you were a boy. It was an unusual feeling to be free from strife, worry, and the self-appointed job of protector. It was both an immense relief and stifling uncertainty about what to do with yourself now once you stopped being the buffer for the village you loved—once you stopped being the single existing force that stood between a man who shouldn't be alive and the only place you called home.

There were things he'd once thought about before, that he'd since stopped thinking about in lieu of doing what he believed was right. Lying atop a beautiful woman—laughing with her—had been one of those things.

The images warmed a welcome burn across his chest; at the same time, he was a little shocked by this revelation. He felt as though he was someone else, looking in on his own feelings and thoughts—not feeling them himself, only watching.

"Itachi?"

He blinked out of his reverie and shook his head, eyes closing briefly.

"Are you alright?" She sounded concerned.

"I'm fine," he replied, tone soft.

"That's good…" she responded, voice lyrical.

His eyes narrowed reflexively, snapping to where he knew hers to be; he—.

Her hands were on _his_ wrists, warm from the hum of her chakra; her legs were flush against his thighs; she was settled atop his lap—effectively holding him down. Grass was a plush carpet under him, cool from the shade provided by the tree above them. He could hear the leaves brush against one another with a passing breeze—their whispers endless in a moment.

_Honeysuckle_.

He could hear her laughter again, dancing around in the space of his ear. "Shouldn't you have better reflexes?"

He sighed, smiling slightly as he allowed his body to relax.

"A shinobi should always be aware of the unexpected."

He could reply back caustically; he had to stop himself from responding with a remark boarding on flirting; instead, he said, "You always smell like honeysuckle." A question more than a statement; it was intended to elicit an explanation. "I gives away your position most of the time," he added.

"To, you—yes," she replied. "I don't wear it on missions," _she_ added. When he didn't say anything she continued, explaining further, "Ino bought the perfume for me when I got Chuunin." She shrugged; he could feel it in the grip of her hands. "I like it…"

"It's nice."

"Good to know." He felt her release his wrists, chakra evaporating. The weight around his hips lifted. "Here."

He reached out, guessing where her hand was; she took his, pulled and he was on his feet. Instinctively, he dusted grass off his backside.

"Here, I'll help," she replied as he let her brush debris off of him. He heard her chuckle. "Here… in your hair…" Her fingers flinted across his cheek, warm digits soft and at the same time abrasive; she must have removed her gloves… "Your ear…" she whispered as careful fin—… her thumb rolled over the top.

There was suddenly a humming in the back of his mind… a blankness. A heat spread, vaguely making him aware of the fact that he was probably blushing. At the same time his face remained impassive, presenting a conflicting expression of embarrassment and unabashed shamelessness.

He became aware of her closeness, the faint warmth of her breath as she leaned into him and combed through his hair… removing the grass and leaves.

"There… done," she whispered.

He could sense her eyes on his face; she was quiet.

"I guess we can head back into the house. I need a shower and you need a checkup; maybe even something to eat. Sound alright?" she asked as if not the least bit aware of the heat laden there across his cheeks.

After a short pause and a re-gathering of his thoughts, he nodded and stepped forward. He could feel Noin come up next to him, paws padding across the ground. Sakura, he could sense to his right. The sun beat a not-so-awful heat along his shoulders and back as it came, hitting him as he walked out of the shade the tree provided.

The solid wood of his stairs, and then his porch, thumped under his sandaled feet. The door slid under his grip as he came in after Sakura and Noin. He waited for the pinkette before slipping off his own sandals and shutting the door behind him.

"Grilled cheese?" she offered from the kitchen.

He nodded and took a seat at the table.

"Give me ten minutes," she replied at he heard her move and work. "Then I'll do a diagnostic on you."

"You won't find anything new," he felt the need to reply.

There was laughter in her voice as she spoke back, "And again, I must remind you of the fact—as I have every time we do this—that when you have taken as many years of medical apprenticeship as I have, then you tell me how to do my job."

In his own mind, his eyes rolled. His chair sat sideways in relation to the table; thus, his right side faced her. His left elbow perched on the table, his hand came to be as a cradle for his cheek. "In the following four or so weeks that you've done these checkups you've never commented on anything new or 'interesting'. So, you can imagine inclination to ward you off doing it so often."

"Noted and overlooked. I have my reasons, Itachi—even if you're not aware of them." There was sizzle, a pop and then a scrapping after this.

Had it really been a month since she'd come into his home? A month… He refrained from frowning and counted the time, confirming his own truth.

Time passed quickly when you didn't have much to do or worry after; even when you had things you enjoyed to surround yourself in, it still swept along rather quickly. While he wasn't surprised she was still there, as he'd long ago settled on the idea that he was alright with Sakura around, the very idea that so much time had passed… He let the thought trail off as he evaluated a few other things.

He left the house a lot on his own when she wasn't around; he and Noin took quite a few walks together just to get out. And while he generally voiced that it was her whining—mostly just to aggravate her—he enjoyed the time away. When he wasn't doing that, he read; he talked about what he read with Sakura. Sometimes they debated over what they thought of the story, the characters; other times they agreed and talked extensively about why. Afternoons were spent training, working out rigorous ways to do what he'd done before without the aid of his eyes. Finally getting to the point where he could use the technique she'd taught him without hand signs hadn't been overwhelming, but, it'd been a bit of trek because of how long it had been since he'd used chakra so strenuously.

Mostly… there were changes—to him. Until now he hadn't taken the time to really see them. The anger, all of it, was gone. The person he was before, the person he liked before the hell his life had turned into, was back in many respects. It was odd and a little unsettling—not because he didn't want to be, but, because he never thought he'd be able to again. So many years were spent in gentle acceptance of being a sacrifice… and now… he didn't have to be anymore. What's more… the plaguing, ever present, anger he had because of what he _couldn't_ do anymore was gone.

Because of her.

"Done," her voice cut through the trove of cobwebbed thoughts, as it always did; at the same time, the plate she brought for him clattered next to his elbow. "Think you can lean forward? After I do the usual I want to get another look at your eyes—and don't tell me it's fruitless."

"It is," he replied as he followed her instruction, elbows on his knees so she had good access to his back.

"It's a good practice for any physician to check the area in most need of help—even if help can't be given. If any change occurs I need to take note of it.

"Quit being pragmatic."

"You say that as if it's a sin."

She snorted and went to work, cool hand flat against his bare back. He could feel her chakra, warm and somewhat invasive, as it sunk beneath the barrier of his skin and entered his body. Her hand moved up his spine, slow and meticulous until she finished.

"Done with that part," he heard and sat up slowly. The grind of chair legs against the floor drew close, indicating to him she intended to sit across from him as she scanned his eyes.

The process she invoked was much as it always was and had been from the first time she took a diagnostic of them; her palms cupped his eyes, her fingers flattened over the side of his face, and again she exuded chakra.

This process was always a little more invasive than the other. Yes, her chakra was warm—most was; however, he couldn't quite get use to it being so close to his face. At times, it felt like warm water spilling past his eyes and into his brain. It wasn't bad… just… unusual.

"Alright, done." He heard the chair move again. "Clean bill of health gets you a free pass to eat."

He nodded and turned his chair around. As he reached for his sandwich, he stilled. His head turned in the direction he believed her to be. "Where are you going?"

"To read," she replied. "In the living room."

A brow rose. "You're not eating?"

She hesitated; he could feel it.

"Come sit with me," he ordered, not meaning to. He thought to say something more after the pass of a moment or two, something to prompt her; however, just when he was about to, he heard her taking a seat. She still didn't say anything when he took the first bite, chewed and then swallowed.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, not entirely use to _this_ level of silence from her.

"You're eating," she replied without inflection in her tone.

"Yes," he agreed, not quite sure what she was getting at.

"In front of me, Itachi," she said next, this time with a hint of amusement in her voice.

It should have struck him as odd that he'd forgotten something that had once been so important to him, but, it didn't. Instead of appearing surprised by her revelation, and thus revealing his own at hers, he said, "It would appear that way, yes."

She didn't respond and he was alright with that. A good minute passed before he decided to speak again. "How's…"

"Hm?" she prompted.

He swallowed his bite and took a generous sip from his drink to wash it down. "How's your team?" _How's Sasuke?_

"Good," she murmured at first. "Naruto's been very busy with Tsunade, now that I'm not nearly as underfoot as I once had to be. With the war over, he's been put under the limelight to get it in gear if he plans on succeeding her.

"Sai's mostly absent and doing his own thing. He's around for missions and off duty stuff, but, I honestly think he's found someone since he's been so obviously off the radar as of late.

"Kakashi…?" she began, "Well, he's Kakashi. Aloof, late and eternally without cause. If he's not too busy rereading his collection of books, sometimes I manage to find him and convince him to train a few rounds with me.

"As for Sasuke…" she trailed off. "He's with Naruto a lot of the time." There was a little laughter in her voice. "I think he thinks if he's with him, then maybe his little fan base will recede to the shadows at the very least. But, there's almost no hope for him in the regard," she added. "He's well though… He passed his exam for Jounin rank a month and half ago. But then you know he was awarded Chuunin for his war efforts…"

Itachi nodded and took another sip of his drink.

"It's hard for me to tell what's with him, but, I think he's happy."

He wasn't sure if she said that because it was apart of what she was saying, or, because she knew he was fishing for information about his brother. He liked to think she was too smart to _not_ figure it out, and, that he was also too smart _not_ to know she had.

He heard her get up, bare feet padding across the floor. The fridge door opened behind him; next, liquid splashed into a glass. At the same time he finished his final bite and brushed crumbs off his fingers.

"I'll be leaving at six tonight instead of eight like usual," she told him as she came back, voice getting closer. She sat down; the bottom of her glass clipped against the table top. "Ino's invited me and few others out tonight; its nothing big, but, she's been bothering me for a week or two to go with her this new bar."

"I'll be well enough on my own."

"Of that I have no doubt," she agreed. "I'm actually starting to think if we hired you a cook and got you scheduled for a monthly checkup, you wouldn't need me anymore.

"You're fairly well self sufficient now." She was chuckling softly.

"…True." The word was there, but, distant at the same time. There came an image to his mind of a day without her around to bother him with training, eating, sleeping, and any other form of taking care of himself properly. The previous quiet the home provided, that he'd sought between caregivers, somehow felt… devoid and cold.

"Did you want to come with me?"

"I'm sorry?" he asked as he turned in her direction and refrained from blinking.

"I asked," she began, smiling in her tone, "if you would like to come with us tonight. Ino won't mind. Actually," she explained with amusement still evident, "she'll probably be ecstatic I brought you along."

"Oh?"

"She's been bothering me to bring you around. You realize you're considered a hermit, right? War hero, but, hermit nonetheless."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"I guess not if you've got the face of an angel," she said quickly and continued, "But, yeah, she's been curious."

"Do you want me to come?" Distantly, his mind was still trying to wrap around her half compliment.

"I wouldn't mind the company, no. It would certainly give me someone to talk to that doesn't mind my boring 'lectures' laced with medical jargon."

"They're not boring."

"Glad you think so," she clipped charismatically. "So, mock-flirty banter aside, are you going? Or shall I expect myself to deliver depressing news to my blond best bud?"

"I'll go; but only because I wouldn't want your evening dampened with her sour mood."

She laughed, finally, unable to keep the guise of false seriousness any longer. "How generous of you.

"Well then, I'll make dinner, head out to get ready and come back to make sure you don't go out looking like a rejected peacock."

He didn't comment this time; his smile was hidden behind his glass.

…

Sakura was grateful for the cool evening breeze; without the harsh rays of the sun, the night felt _very_ forgiving. She was a little surprised to find the entertainment district as uncrowded as it was. That wasn't to say there weren't people around, but, she didn't find herself having to maneuver as much as she would have in the past. She counted this as good fortune, for, it wouldn't have done well to take Itachi out on a night where he might have found himself feeling claustrophobic. Still, the good weather should have encouraged people outdoors on a Friday night.

"You don't have to hold my arm."

Jade green orbs glanced to her left; she smiled warmly as her eyes touched on his slightly clouded ones. "Perhaps I'm guarding you."

"From?"

"Fangirls. Your brother, as I'm sure you're aware, has a trove of them. You haven't been out so much as to gain many—yet. But, they'll come."

"Ah," he replied, showing his understanding in mock seriousness. "It has been a while."

"Did you have many before?"

Itachi sighed; her curious gaze remained on him. "I suppose…" He rubbed his chin and inclined his head upward, as if he were looking at the stars. "But, once they realized I wasn't an asshole… well… I guess girls go for the tall, dark and brooding."

"You brood _now_."

He chuckled. "Sometimes… I did then too." He frowned momentarily. "I was a genius; while girls find that attractive, I guess I wasn't stoic enough for them."

"Again," she laughed between words, "you have your moments now."

"You're not helping my argument," he replied with another round of mock seriousness. "My point _is_," he emphasized, barely pausing for effect, "I was a pretty nice guy. If you haven't noticed, I enjoy smiling, laughing, and stringing together more than three words at a given moment to coerce a memorable conversation."

"I'll concede," she said, her smile still firmly in place, boarding on a grin she wished he could see. "So, what you're saying is, girls got a good look at you and liked what they saw; however, once they realized you weren't going to act like some war torn, tortured, egotistical asshole they turned tail and ran?"

"Young women generally have a vague idea of what they all want in a mate at the age of twelve. The characteristics they're looking for aren't as clear as they become when they grown older and mature. They fail to realize confidence does not mean one has to be a complete asshole."

"I can relate to that evaluation having been one such _young woman_." The faint memory of trailing after his younger sibling echoed in her mind. A few months ago she might have sighed wistfully at her misplaced desires for certain personality traits; now she just laughed at herself.

"Itachi?" Noin asked from the front of the two. She stopped and turned. "Do you need me tonight?"

"Hot date?" Sakura asked.

Noin snorted. "No, but I'm not very fond of cigarette smoke." She turned her gaze back to Itachi, waiting.

"I'll be fine. Just make sure you meet back with me around ten."

"No problem." She glanced over at the pinkette. "Have fun, kids." Sakura watched as she bounded off onto a building and disappeared into the night.

"She's a handful."

"She's good for you."

"And how do you gather that?"

As they drew up to the front of the bar she looked over at him briefly. "She keeps you on your toes."

"Like you?"

"I'll take that as a compliment, Uchiha." Now she _was_ grinning.

The front of the establishment was normal from what Sakura could tell; just your average wooden, barely-windowed little tavern between two others. There was nothing really fascinating about it with exception to the neon sign flaring the words _Shinobi_ that made it glaringly obvious it was a ninja bar.

Sakura pulled her arm out of his and held the door open. "Age before beauty, right?"

He shook his head, but stepped in anyway; she was right behind him.

The inside wasn't much different; however, she could see why Ino liked the joint. They had a live band, and, from what the blonde had told her, an excellent list of drinks. Of course, Sakura wouldn't be surprised if that was her own breed of girl lingo for _hot bartender with a nice ass_.

The lingering smell of cigarette smoke wafted by, reminding her that Noin had probably made the right choice.

Overall, the place appeared clean and rugged. It wasn't the sort you dressed up too nice for, nor would it be in bad form to come in with a dress on like she had. Still, the two ANBU in uniform and three Jounin seated at the bar told her that it was a nice watering hole to stop by after work.

"Sakura!"

"Blonde best bud at ten o'clock," she whispered to Itachi.

"Hey, Ino," she replied louder, almost immediately after her whisper. A bright smile was pressed to her features and she took the other woman into a tight hug.

"Oh, I'm so glad you came!" she said next as she pulled away from her. "Not everyone is here yet, but, that's no big deal. We're taking up the other side of the bar; it's easier to get drinks that way."

"Sounds fine by me." Sakura looked over at Itachi. "Does the bar work for you?"

"I'll sit wherever suits you best."

"You brought someone," Ino murmured out, eyes wide on the older Uchiha.

Sakura turned back to the blonde, smile fainter but still present. "I did. Ino, this is Itachi. Itachi, this is my best friend, Yamanaka Ino."

"Forehead," the blue-eyed girl muttered, "Everyone knows who he is."

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Yes, but you've never been introduced. Good manners, Ino. I know you have them."

She snorted, shooting a glare at the pinkette. "No worse than yours…" she said quietly and then smiled, turning her attention back to Itachi. "Nice to finally meet you, Itachi-san. I'm sorry if I sound surprised; Sakura doesn't usually bring anyone outside of her team. And that hardly counts as a date, wouldn't you agree?"

"_Ino!_" Sakura breathed in admonishment, not quite believing her ears. "We are not—."

"Certainly," Itachi interrupted, his voice clipped before he turned towards Sakura. He held his hand out. "Would you mind leading me to where we are sitting, Sakura?"

Sakura's glare remained on Ino as she took his arm and stepped away from her conniving friend.

When they were a few feet away she was surprised by the tickle of his breath near her ear, sending a jolt down her spine as he whispered, "I find that sometimes it's best to allow people to think what they want rather than arguing uselessly."

And just like that, her anger washed away; replacing it was a tired smile. "With Ino that's probably best.

"Besides, I can always kill her later."

"Of that I have no doubt, Sakura." There wasn't laughter in his words, but she caught the dry humor all the same.

She was happy to see the stools had backs to them; she did not want to be hunched over a bar counter for hours. As she came closer she caught sight of Shikamaru; she waved and took the empty place next to him, releasing Itachi so he could take the one next to her.

"Hey, Lazy," she greeted with her usual nickname.

"Hey," he muttered in his sleepy way, cigarette rolling around betwixt his lips. He raised a brow at Itachi.

Sakura sat back and once again made introductions.

"Cool. I'd shake your hand, but, I don't feel like getting up anymore than I imagine you do; plus, Sakura's in the way."

She lightly smacked his shoulder. "You better not be calling me fat."

"I value my life," he said, voice lacking all fear.

She smirked and waved the bar tender over. "Where's Chouji?"

"Date."

"Really?"

Shikamaru nodded as he pulled the cigarette away from his lips and exhaled a stream of wispy white. "Yeah, some girl he met who works at the barbeque place."

"Nice. At least they have something in common. Why not come here?"

The lazy genius smirked and gave her a look. "Would you bring a new girl around Ino if you were Chouji?"

"Point taken," she agreed. She leaned forward and broke his gaze, looking for the bartender so she could order. But, he was already getting Itachi's order. When she tried to call him over he walked away.

"Well… that blows."

Itachi turned in her direction. "I ordered for you."

"Really?" She blinked. "What?"

"Blackberry bourbon."

Her brows rose.

"You were occupied. I did not think you would mind."

She shook her head, just then realizing her silence must have thrown him off. Sometimes it was hard to remember he was blind; Itachi rarely acted like someone who should be. "No, no, that's fine. I'm not picky and that sounds really good.

"Is it?"

"Very." He smiled warmly.

"So, how long you here for, Sak?" Shikamaru asked.

"Just until ten. Thank you," she told the tender as he placed the glass in front of her.

"Why so early?"

She took a sip, testing the flavor on her tongue. "Smooth…" she murmured. "And ah… I have a late night appointment with someone. They couldn't squeeze me in otherwise."

"I was about to ask why so late."

She nodded. "Is anyone else showing up?"

He shrugged. "Maybe Genma and a few other senior Jounin. Naruto said he might… Not sure about Sasuke, but then he tags along anywhere the blonde goes, so, who knows, huh?"

"…True."

"Watch my drink, will you? I'm heading to the john."

"Sure," she echoed, thoughts churning at the newly gleaned information. Unconsciously, she turned to gaze at Itachi. He was staring down at his glass, face as impassive as ever. He must have heard Shika. She resisted the urge to sigh.

"Do you want to go in a bit…?"

He pulled his head up and turned his eyes to hers. "We only just got here."

She frowned and narrowed her scrutinizing ones. "Yes, but… Do you really want to be here when Sasuke comes?"

"My brother's presence does not make me uncomfortable. If you are worried we will cause a scene, you have nothing to fear.

"Sasuke will not approach me directly no matter how I much I would like him to."

And there is was; the clipped, concise, calculated vocabulary he used when something made him tense. She knew because… she did the same thing. It was easy to hide your feelings when people couldn't really _see_ them, wasn't it?

"It if would make you feel better, we can leave if he arrives."

She shook her head. "Then he would think you were avoiding him. I wouldn't want that."

"You shouldn't always worry about how much your actions make people feel."

"When it comes to people who are important to me, the closest to me, I do. I always will. Not to, is to deny who I am." She smiled wanly. "I did that once before years ago. It wasn't the best experience."

"Would it make you uncomfortable if Sasuke and I were both here?"

"In a way, yes. Because I would know the both of you were uncomfortable." She paused, thinking. "I don't pretend to know what's wrong between you two. I know most of it; I know enough to know that a bar wouldn't be the best place to try and sort it out even if the words are never really spoken."

"I'm not going to hide from him."

"I know."

Itachi sighed, took a drink and then set his glass down. He appeared to be looking at his drink as he held it, not quite allowing the bottom of the glass to touch the bar.

"Do you mind if I ask?"

"About?"

"What's stopping the two of you… or at least you."

He took another sip, smacked his lips and this time let the drink sit on the counter. His arms folded over in front of him and he leaned forward.

She sat facing his left, one arm on the bar as she gently held her glass. She continued to watch him carefully—quietly.

"Honestly… I don't know what to say to him." His words were spoken so softly Sakura strained to hear them. "In our career, there are no right or wrong choices; just choices and the consequences of those choices. And, there are always consequences.

"At the time… I did what I believed to be right. Sasuke, unfortunately, was a bystander in all of that. I never wanted for him the life that was given to me; I never wanted that for any of my family… or the future generations. It was my hope that he could change that, even if he wasn't aware of it." There was a bitter smile tracing his lips. "Funny how fate changes things for you, how other people do.

"The best laid plans are left in ruin."

Sakura's eyes narrowed a fraction; unexpectedly, her heart tightened at the implications of his words. "Are you saying… you _wished_ you'd been left for dead?"

"I use to," he admitted. "In fact, I'm fairly certain there was a time in my life I hated the person who brought me back; for months I know I did.

"But, we're talking about Sasuke, right?"

"…Right."

He nodded. "Tell me, Sakura, what do you say to the little brother you love most, when the excuses are too complicated to be apologies? What do you tell yourself, them, when the words sound meaningless on your own lips?

"It's something like breaking your best friend's arm, knowing full well what you're doing at the time, and then apologizing in the next moment."

"I don't think you can compare saving hundreds of people to breaking someone's arm."

"It's all in the viewpoint," he replied. "From your viewpoint, I saved lives even while I took many others. From Sasuke's, I took his family away from him."

"I think you're underestimating him, Itachi."

"I wouldn't know. He won't talk to me."

She sighed. "Have you tried approaching him?"

He turned to look at her, blind eyes pulling away from his drink to partially settle on her as best as she imagined he could manage. "I was the one who did him wrong, Sakura."

It was easy to read what he meant by that; no real elaboration was needed, and, it was hard to argue with him. "Maybe he's afraid… Sasuke's never been one to deal with emotions. Fists, yes; heart-felt talks, no.

"But, I see where you're coming from."

He nodded and finished his drink as she took another sip of hers. The moment passed on for a long while with neither of them saying anything. It wasn't unusual, but, this time it felt quietly uneasy. She knew she couldn't accept his thoughts on the matter, but, she also knew there was no pushing the issue. Sasuke and Itachi's issues were their own; they had to settle them that way.

"And you and Sasuke?"

She blinked, surprised by his question. "I'm sorry?"

"I obliged you, Sakura. I should think it's only fair.

"What happened between the two of you?"

"Oh," she said, because she couldn't quite figure out how to respond to that. Eventually, she smiled softly. "How about a raincheck on that one. Ask me something else?"

"How did you fall in love with my brother then?"

"That's almost as bad."

"But not nearly."

"…Not nearly," she conceded with a nod. She tapped her glass with a single digit, thinking how to begin. "I'm not ashamed to admit I'm a sucker for a pretty face; you have to know that first," she started, settling on him a look she hated he couldn't see. "And your brother had—still has, actually—a _very_ pretty face. That's mostly how it started.

"I didn't actually know anything about him, his past—nothing. I did know he was one of the top in my class. And really, it's not that hard to admire someone who's good at something you're still trying to figure out at twelve. Granted, your brother wasn't a master shinobi then, but, he was well on his way." She shrugged, looked at her drink and finished it off.

She gave a nod when the tender refilled it for her.

"So that's it, then?"

"Oh no," she replied with a small smile and a chuckle. "Then we became a team and it only got worse. I had that whole, I want the broody asshole syndrome thing going on you talked about earlier."

"Ah."

"But…" she trailed on, memories flitting in her mind as she stared over at her drink. "I got to know him better… Sasuke is…" she paused and stopped herself from sighing again. "He was a pretty tortured creature. I think there were days he hated himself more than you; he hated what he couldn't take back and that hate kept him from loving anyone. I mean, I know he loved Naruto and I in his own way; he never wanted to see us hurt, but… I couldn't reach him." She smiled at the bitter irony that statement invoked in her another memory; she crushed it, pushing back the burn of tears that would surely come if she did think on it too long.

"I guess I wanted to help him; heal him. It's not surprising that's what I do. I accept that part of myself." She was suddenly made aware of the fact that she _wanted_ to tell him how it had all ended, but, she knew if she did it here… She shook her head, ridding herself of her own stupidity and insecurities.

She did, however, jump once she felt a hand on hers, fingers curling into her palm. Her wide green hues shot to Itachi's. She schooled them, softening under his clouded gaze; he didn't need sight to really see right through her, she thought in the moment—the same moment her chest tightened under his serious, soft, comforting acceptance.

"Thank you for being there for him." He squeezed.

Yes, she was quite sure he could see right through her.

She smiled and squeezed back.

…

Hours had passed; the time was late, but, not crossing the midnight toll into morning. Konoha was not silent; however, it was certainly more subdued than it had been previously. What few people were still roaming about were going home from bars, missions or leaving on a newly acquired one.

Sakura had parted ways with her dark-haired, fairly older, and slightly enigmatic ward about an hour and a half ago. Noin greeted him promptly at ten; Sakura had smiled, said her goodbyes and watched as his faithful guide lead him into the night and back home. She'd lingered a while, looking until she could barely make out his back in the distance. She'd only realized how out of character that action was after she'd willed her eyes away and lent her body towards her home to gather things for her meeting. Still, like the first time she'd seen him in nothing at all, she accepted her action without a back lashing thought.

"You're on time," her mentor's voice broke through the dimly lit chamber-office of the Hokage.

"Should I not be?" She offered a smile as she shut the door; it remained as she crossed the room and began to set up.

Tsunade's amber-gold orbs watched as she pulled an easel out of her bag and began setting up covered cards. Her brow rose at this, curious. "Just remarking on the fact that it's the one thing you never inherited from Kakashi."

"Are you implying I've inherited everything else?"

"Quite a few things, porn and lack of punctuality withstanding."

"I'm not sure if I'm insulted."

"Don't be," she replied, setting her elbow on the desk and her chin in her hand. She waved the other hand. "It can't be helped you've grown up."

"And I've inherited nothing from you?" Her voice was filled with barely-there amusement.

"My sharp wit, pride and temper." She opened a drawer, leaning that way; a bottle of sake was promptly set on the desk. Shortly following it were two glasses. "Sake?"

"All very admirable qualities, Shishou," she hummed out. "And no thank you. I believe I filled my quota for the night." She checked her cards, adjusting them on the stand; her back was to her master for the moment.

Tsunade filled her cup. "Are you trying to butter me up for something?"

"If I were doing that I'd buy you top shelf sake." As she turned, hands on her hips, she smiled only slightly brighter.

Tsunade waved her hand again, and only after downing half of her cup. "We could sit here all night trading half insults and half compliments back and forth, but, I'm sure you're just as eager to get to your bed as I am mine.

"On with it."

Without much else, she did. Sakura turned so that she was half facing the large set of cards on the stand placed directly in front of the Hokage's desk. She pulled the cover down, revealing a healthy diagram of the human body from the area above the groin up. The stomach, lungs, the chakra system and the path that system closely related in its course to the human eyes were the only parts painted in the diagram; the rest appeared grayed out, indicating lack of importance.

"This is a diagram of a healthy human body, the outlined organs and their relation to the chakra system—as you well know, Shishou."

"Sakura, I know what a healthy body on the inside looks like."

Sakura nodded respectfully. "It's for direct comparison. I apologize."

"To?"

"In a moment," she replied politely. Her attention drew back to the diagram and she pointed as she spoke. "As you well know, our chakra veins—much like our blood veins and vessels—bear sound walls that prevent the escape of chakra as it is created here—," she said as she pointed to the curling mess of twisting vein-work just above the stomach and below the lungs, "—and transported throughout the rest of our body." Next she indicated to the rest of the diagram where the pathways wove about, going through the arms, to the brain, the eyes, and along the chest and further down where the picture faded.

"Chakra, in a state of rest, is considered fairly safe for the body; even under a state of use, with most jutsu, it's harmless." Sakura paused and set her hand on the corner of the card closest to her on the top. "This is what Itachi's chakra system looks like in a state of rest—right now.

"However…" she trailed off and pulled the card down.

Tsunade blinked owlishly a few times as she set her cup down and eyed the card on display now.

"This," Sakura explained without looking at her, green depths directly on the card, "is what Itachi's chakra system looks like when in use." Unlike the last card, this one showed chakra spinning in poised work, brilliant and bright. Rather opposite of the uniform chakra that appeared to coarse directly through the veins, this chakra broke beyond the veins and into the body in some places—mostly in the areas around the mass network where it was formed. "Even like this, it's moderately harmless to his body. It's what it looks like under normal jutsu use."

"And by normal you mean A-rank?"

Sakura looked over at her, features impassive and yet… hinting at something. "Anything that is not a bloodline technique, Shishou." Before Tsunade could ask anything else she turned back to the card and continued, "That's not to say extended use of normal techniques wouldn't do harm, but, it would have to be constant and almost always a situation where chakra was depleted from the body."

Sakura reached up and pulled the card down. "Although, if you were to constantly use a technique like the Sharingan…" she trailed off, allowing the image to speak for itself as she stepped away, giving Tsunade a full view.

Her teacher was quiet, still; it was then she knew she had her full attention.

The diagram now showed the chakra at the core where it was crated spinning out of its confined veins; it attacked both the lungs above it and the stomach below it. The art depicted small shredding and tearing in both organs.

"A bloodline technique puts a mass amount of stress on the user's body," she said quietly, clinically, as she clasped her hands in front of her and kept her gaze on the card. "Under normal circumstances, this fine for any healthy shinobi. For a Sharingan user, it's the majority of the reason they lose their eyesight without a proper transplant.

"For someone with Itachi's diagnosis, it's nearly fatal when combined with that of his bloodline technique."

"His diagnosis?"

Emerald-green orbs slid toward her sensei, meeting her gaze seriously. "Itachi has a very rare birth defect that directly affects his chakra system. The veins walls are thin, thinner in some places more than others; this is especially so at the core of where chakra is created.

"It makes his formerly constant use of the Sharingan, and that of the Mangekyo, much worse than any other Uchiha—or even someone like Kakashi," she amended at the last minute. "As a direct result, the chakra, when in a state of bloodline use, became harmful to the areas around the core."

"His lungs and stomach," Tsunade answered. "That explains the coughing up blood…"

"From both the esophagus and the trachea," Sakura agreed with a nod.

"How did we miss it?" Tsunade echoed, sounding like she was speaking to herself. "Granted, he refused medical examinations after he left the hospital; which, was wholly within his right as he's all but retired from duty… But…" she trailed off as she leaned back in her chair and touched her lower lip, "Why didn't we catch this when he was still in the hospital?"

"It's not a well known birth defect, Shishou," Sakura explained further. "It's not as if many shinobi have such a defect that warrants examining their chakra vein walls in detail—which you would have to do to find the problem."

"In short," Tsunade summed up, "it's not something you would find in a standard procedure." She sounded bitter, as if her mouth were coated in distaste.

"To be fair," Sakura said more softly, "there were a lot of people bleeding all over operating tables at the end of the war… I can hardly recall all the faces, much less names, of the lives I saved… and didn't," she fought the bite that lathered its way onto her tongue at the last two words of her statement. She inhaled deeply. "Many nurses and doctors would easily miss something like that under those conditions.

"Myself included."

Tsunade nodded as she wiped a hand down her face, conceding. "Yes, I know…"

Sakura sympathized with her. Both women knew the cut of overlooking something simply because it was rare. It would never make sense to institute a procedure to look for something so uncommon, yet, it didn't make it any easier to accept—especially when it could save a life.

The price of being a medic was never easy. Saving lives gave you a sense of accomplishment; accomplishment that was easily ripped away at the loss of one.

"I've got just one question, Sakura."

She hadn't realized her gaze had wandered downward in her thoughts until she looked up at her mentor and regathered them. Her teacher's face was hard and serious; her eyes were sharp and laden with a question.

"If this is what you intended to tell me, why all the secrecy? Certainly we could have talked about this at a brighter hour." As if to accent her point, she yawned; her hand came up and fanned openly over her widened mouth.

"Agreed," Sakura replied. "What I just told you is not something that couldn't be said at any time of the day, when anyone could have overheard simply by accidentally walking in the room. It's what I want to tell you next I wish to keep private, Shishou."

Tsunade's eyes narrowed again as she eyed her.

"From everything I've gathered through research in medical texts, evaluating Itachi on a nearly constant basis, and my own means of analyzing the data I've gathered…

"I believe I can not only cure Itachi's birth defect, but, reinstate his sight as well."

"How?" There wasn't a moment of hesitation in the question.

"The defect is not reoccurring; it was simply way his body formed while he was in the womb and as he grew into an adult. With a tasking procedure requiring an advanced level of chakra control and precision, the walls of his veins can be strengthen. It would take several days of treatments and long hours of work. Regardless, I believe I can do it."

"His eyesight?" Sakura could hear the excitement hidden in her voice. The Sharingan was always considered a bloodthirsty inherited technique simply because once you obtained the Mangekyo, you would go blind if you didn't receive a transplant from someone else who also had the Mangekyo. For years, Tsunade and Sakura both had taken time to study how to simply cure the downfall of its perfection. To be able to do so without the loss of sight, either by transplant or by natural use would be a breakthrough of epic proportions.

"I wondered why you needed to take another user's eyes to obtain what the Uchiha call 'The Perfect Mangekyo'. Until recently, I didn't have the advantage to take a look at one so extensively. Sasuke and Kakashi are very busy; Team Seven is always on high demand and it leaves little time for such proper analysis."

"Agreed."

"Bloodlines, again, cause a serious strain on the body. They are almost unnatural in their existence—an anomaly." Sakura turned back to the cards and pulled the diagram present down. Behind it, a card showed an up close image of the human eye—a Sharingan. Sakura pointed to the optic nerves and the chakra veins running alongside them into the eye. "I have a theory…" she trailed off, thinking of her wording. Her eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed on the diagram. Her hand dropped and she turned to her teacher, who was watching her intently.

"Chakra," she began," is a living life force. Every living thing on the planet has it, even if they don't use it. Some speculate it's the soul, the thing that makes us move. It's not entirely unlikely, with that frame of thought, that it might be somewhat cognitive.

"I don't understand why transplants work with the Mangekyo; however, I believe because of this possibility that it could be that when a transplant occurs… Well," she broke off, "When one performs the transplant, one has to attach foreign chakra veins to the ones that naturally exist as apart of the user. I think that when the strong surge of chakra hits these foreign veins, it slows to register and evaluate its location. I _think_," she went on a little more strongly, now pointing to the diagram and chakra path to the eye, "that when it hits the eye, it backlashes. At that level of strength it can cause damage to the optic nerve in much the same way chakra does damage to Itachi's organs because of his weak vein walls.

"I know from analyzing Kakashi's, Itachi's and Sasuke's that damage has been done to the optic nerve."

"Nice, but it doesn't explain Kakashi's case."

Sakura shrugged, facing her again. "It may be with him, it's simply a matter of him not being an Uchiha. He's the only known case, other than Denzou, to ever receive the Sharingan and not be an Uchiha. However, there's no precise way to know without further testing.

"This is just a theory after all.

"In any case," she continued, "I know I can repair the damage to Itachi's eyes and his optic nerves. The only way to prevent further damage is a transplant."

"What's your proposal then?"

"I would like to have Sasuke and Itachi agree to a cross-transplantation."

When Tsunade said nothing Sakura continued. "There is very little known about the Sharingan, even in all the years of its existence. It wasn't even until Madara that the Uchiha realized they could take their relative's eyes to prevent blindness. I believe it never really occurred to them, with such limited medical knowledge, and with the stress of war, combined with what little information is written on the Mangekyo—and that is mostly based in word of mouth and myth through the generations of the clan—that it would have occurred to any of them to attempt a simple cross-transplantation."

"I find it hard to believe it never occurred to us…" She was blinking with the revelation of such a simple option.

"It only makes sense, but… again, you know how well hidden the Uchiha kept the intricacies of their bloodline limit; they wrote down very little. Even that was simply a story on how to obtain the Mangekyo."

Tsunade nodded. As if she just realized she'd forgotten about her sake, she poured herself another glass and drank from it. "Oh yes, I recall very clearly how they refused to have anyone—even myself—examine their eyes during the Third War…

"I couldn't force it, of course." Tsunade shrugged. "They'd had something written into the Konoha clan agreements about preventing examination of their eyes by any medical professional.

"Understandable… no matter how archaic." She returned her gaze from the wall to Sakura. "What's the percentage of success for both operations?"

"I'm ninety-five percent sure I can cure his birth defect. The five percent allocates for human error due to the level of difficulty."

Tsunade's lips twitched. "No one's perfect, Sakura."

Sakura's twitched briefly as well. "As for the transplant… a hundred percent. And, taking into account the considerable damage Itachi's eyes have undergone from being blind… perhaps eighty percent."

Tsunade waved her hand. "That's no matter… he's already blind. All he has to gain is sight if it's successful. Unless there's some other damage the operation could cause you're not telling me?"

Sakura shook her head.

"Very well, you have my approval. However, you do realize it's not me you really have to convince, don't you?" She paused when her protégée said nothing immediately. "Uchiha men are stubborn, Haruno. And there's a muck of emotional mess between the two of them. You've got to get them both to agree…"

"I'm up for the task."

"Still…" She trailed off, watching Sakura carefully as she packed her display cards and easel. "It's an awful lot of work you've done for Itachi…

"I also notice you've been referring to him by his given name without an honorific."

Sakura broke down the easel to a size to fit in her bag. She slid it in carefully; next came the cards. "You spend enough time with a person and it's bound to happen.

"Is it a problem?"

Her mentor frowned behind her cup, sipping from it next. As Sakura slung the bag over her shoulder, Tsunade came right out and said it.

"Are you in love with him?"

Sakura didn't freeze in place; however, there was a noticeable skip-pause in her movement. The action barely appeared less graceful than it was. No one would have noticed it, but, Tsunade wasn't a 'no one'.

Her sharp green eyes locked on her mentor's. "If I were, would that be a problem as well?"

"Neither is."

Sakura said nothing.

Tsunade sighed; her eyes drifted down to the cup between her hands. "I don't regret my decision to pick you for this job, Sakura. I've kept abreast of every report you've delivered on his recovery, and, he's made amazing strides in the last month—more so than in the last six before that.

"I'm not going to argue with good results…"

"But?"

Tsunade's eyes narrowed and softened all at once. "You wouldn't be the first medical professional to confuse love with sympathy and pity. I've seen it happen—."

"I feel neither sympathy nor pity for Itachi," Sakura interrupted stiffly, almost snapping.

"Then what do you feel?"

"First and foremost?" she began, "Respect and admiration." Sakura set her bag down and locked her eyes on her teacher once again. "Itachi's blind, Shishou—not inept. I won't treat him any differently because of it; I haven't.

"If anything, I empathize with him."

"Empathize?" she said word not so much as a question, but, as if repeating her student.

"I understand what it means to feel useless."

Reluctantly, after the pause a moment that could be described as a stare down between the two women, Tsunade nodded. "Very well…"

"Is there anything else?"

"No…" She waved her hand outward in the direction of the door, lazily shooing her. "You may go…"

When Sakura got to the door, bag on her shoulder and hand clasped about the knob, her teacher called out to her.

"…He's not Sasuke."

Sasuke smiled softly, still facing the door. "I wouldn't want him to be."

And then Tsunade was alone, door clicking soundlessly behind her student.

* * *

**AN :: **This chapter wasn't hard to write from the start to the part where the bar scene ended. I had fun with it. What did take me some time is writing the meeting between Tsunade and Sakura.

Speaking of which, aren't you guys glad you waited to find out what Sakura was going to do about his blindness? Now, I'm not going to go off on this long tangent about how stupid Kishimoto is for never thinking that a cross-transplantation could be a viable option… And I'm going to assume it is until he explains otherwise how it wouldn't be.

For those of you who liked that I wasn't going the fix-blind route—I'm sorry. But, really, this was my plan from the start.

**For next chapter,** things might be shorter; however, I do promise deeper interactions between Sakura and Itachi. Basically, get ready for a climax in the emotional and physical aspect of the story. Also, in next chapter **the issues that broke Sasuke and Sakura apart will be explained.**

Thanks for reading and/or reviewing.

—**Blade**

**P.S.** I'm no medical professional; as such, forgive any medically explained mishaps. I did my best.

_Also, another note, because of the VAST amount of reviews I get from both of my stories, the new nature of the reply system, and my own limited time, any reviews with short little answers will not be replied to. This is not to say I don't appreciate them! I love them all. It's just difficult for me to reply to every one of them, and, I like to reward those who give me an extensive reply evaluating my work. Plus, aside from thank you, I'm not sure what else to say to 'Awesome! Update soon!'_


	7. Chapter Seven

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**Seven|**Sept

There was nothing that could quite compare to the solidity of a thick branch under a chakra infused booted foot. It seemed silly at face value. What could be so amazing about feeling the beat of solid wood under your feet as you raced through a forest back home? For a shinobi it meant everything however. For Sakura it meant another day alive, another day she could return home to her loved ones. When her time came she was sure that would be in the forefront of her thoughts.

Green hues looked upward; briefly, in reverie, they trailed after white flecks emblazoned on the blue-black canvas of the sky. She leapt up once, closing her eyes, and deeply inhaled the fresh night air. Her hair whipped around her face and the white mask pulled up and to the side of her head. Her hair, braided, bounced along her back. She opened her eyes just as she came down on another branch and below the canopy of green.

"Showing off, Sakura? To who?"

The pinkette laughed at the man next to her, who at the moment met her pace to talk. "Not you, that's for sure." Her smile faded slightly before she gave a shrug; her eyes met his opaque-violet hues, as it was lit dimly enough to see only by the grace of the full moon. "I like to look at the stars. It's a nice night, all considering that border patrol bullshit we had to clean up."

"You only say that because we assumed this would be a simple procedure. Ultimately, it was."

Sakura sighed just after dodging a low branch before her next jump. "Are you calling me whiney, Neji?"

He smirked.

She rolled her eyes. "You only say it was simple because we got out without any major injuries. I say it was a pain in the ass because the ringleader was a slippery bastard."

"Genjutsu masters generally are."

"Then perhaps I should have asked a Sharingan user to join me instead."

"That would be your err, not mine, Haruno."

This time she just smiled. There wasn't much point in trying to aggravate or irritate someone of Neji's constitution. Well, unless your name was Tenten; then all bets were off. Sakura could easily admit the brunette had to be only one she knew—even counting Naruto—that could really ruffle Neji's proverbial feathers.

Neji wasn't stuffy, per say. He had been as a kid. It was just hard to get under his skin. Working in ANBU with him off and on for a year had told her that much.

"I'm surprised Tsunade called you in for this one," he said from her right.

She glanced over at him, observing that his long mane was tied back at the base of his neck. His mask was pulled up on top of his head and away from his face like hers; it had been since they'd come within a five mile radius of Konoha.

She turned to look forward. "Why? Someone of my rank or higher needed to examine the bodies so we could ascertain the culprit."

"It was pretty standard, even for a medic. For someone of your caliber…"

Sakura shrugged. "They don't have a lot of medics in ANBU, not really. And this job required a little finesse. That's why I asked for you.

"And anyway, it's like Kakashi says, 'Once ANBU always ANBU.'"

"True," he agreed a little mutely, looking to mull something over. His brow furrowed. "Why did you retire anyway?"

The ground thumped under her feet as she landed and stopped. She moved her hands to her hips and half faced him as he joined her. They were a good quarter mile from the village, she estimated; ground movement would be fine from here.

He raised a brow at her.

"I figure we can walk from here," she answered before glancing about and moving to head towards the main road that led to the village gates. "I retired for something of the same reason I joined," she explained as they trudged up and through the brush. She pushed a bush out of her way and held it until he grabbed it behind her. "I wanted Kakashi to be my recruiter. So, I asked him what he thought about it.

"He told me, 'Stay until you're not too soft, but, quit before it makes you too hard.' That's what I did. So, I stuck with it for a year and then left to go back to Jounin level missions.

"Actually, I think this is the first time since I was eighteen that Tsunade called me back in for something ANBU related.

She shrugged. "Ah well. Why did you quit?" She asked this as they stepped onto the main road.

"Sort of the same reason." He reached up, stretching his arms above his head and sighing as something snapped. "I didn't really need to…"

"I don't think anyone _needs_ to," she agreed.

"True, but I have other responsibilities. ANBU can be a little demanding."

"Agreed."

"Speaking of ANBU…" he started, alluding to a subject change as he looked over at her to his left. "How did the technique work out with Itachi-san? I meant to ask you sooner, but you haven't come by."

She smiled and dug her hands into her pockets. "You could always come say hi to me, you know." He rolled his eyes so she continued and answered. "Pretty well, actually. It didn't take him long to master it at all. We've been training. Just before I left we were going to start working with weapons and not just taijutsu."

"It's been about a month since you were assigned to him…"

She nodded. "Yup… a little over, actually. He's much better, even if he still has a bit to go."

"It can't be easy."

"What?" She looked over at him, drawing her gaze up from the road.

He met hers, a soft earnest aura present in his opaque-violet hues. "Losing your sight. For a shinobi… for someone like him." He closed his eyes and tuned his face towards the direction they were heading. "I can't imagine it."

"It's not uncommon," she replied. "Our careers aren't exactly safe…"

"It's different—harder—when so much of what you do is based on your eyes—your techniques."

"It is," she agreed softly, nodding. "I think it did a little more than damage his pride."

When he looked over at her again she knew it was his way of waiting for her to explain. It was odd; having dealt with so many quiet, introverted people her whole life gave her a little insight as to their signals.

She sighed. "He was angry; that's the best way I can put it. He didn't want anyone to help him. He didn't want to be fixed or learn how to cope."

"And he has now?"

"Not totally, no; however, at least he leaves the house on his own. That was something he hadn't done since he'd come back to the village."

He nodded, signifying the end of the conversation at least on his end.

Sakura watched the wide, dirt paven path roll on under her as she submerged into her thoughts. With her slightly hunched over stance, some would say—sans the mask, Icha Icha, and a few other obvious qualities—she looked a little like Kakashi on a fairly normal day.

She hadn't had a chance to talk to Sasuke about the transplant yet. The day after her night with Itachi, and then Tsunade, she'd been called in and shipped out for a two-day mission near one of the border patrol stations. She'd thought about it a lot though; mostly about what she would say to him.

Itachi never came up as a topic for the team seven trio, with or without Sai and Kakashi around. The one time he'd been brought up recently had been by Sasuke and herself. Both were brief and stated with a certain level of understanding. This was so different though. This wasn't Sasuke telling her he was happy she was watching out for his brother; this was her asking him if he would be willing to give Itachi back his eyesight, and ensure the lifespan of his own as well as his brother's.

Where would she start?

Plus, she hadn't even considered how Itachi would feel about it. Naturally, she assumed he'd be ok with it—he'd want it. Then again… there was a chance he'd be completely against it for his own reasons.

Sakura closed her eyes, listening absently as a gentle wind rustled the leaves on nearby trees in a way that sounded like rain.

She could still hear Tsunade's voice in her head.

_Are you in love with him?_

Even as they repeated she could feel her chest both tighten and lighten at the same time.

It was hard for her to admit anything to herself. Part of it was asking herself if it was right to; he was her patient, and there was no telling how he felt. There wasn't that kind of fear for her admitting her feelings to someone as there had been when she was a girl; however, there was that fear of jumping into something and…

Sasuke had been her whole world for _so long_, for so many years. In a way, he'd become an unhealthy religion for her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to entertain the idea of dedicating herself so thoroughly to someone again. Especially someone…

She just… she hadn't expected _this_. It wasn't the first time she had to take care of a patient on an intimate level… Even if she had gone an extra mile or two for Itachi, he shouldn't have been making her question herself like this.

But then she was reminded of moments like when she'd gotten him to learn the new technique, and he'd taken her face in his hands. She knew he was just caught in the moment and feeling out her facial features—he could have done it to anyone. The blind did that. But, for some reason there was no stopping the way her body stilled at that moment, the way her eyes had widened, the way her heart had caught in her throat, or the way her belly had jumped under his touch. With every_ touch_ it got worse; she had to keep holding herself back, burying the way her body reacted to him—and now her feelings.

At some point she was going to have to make a decision: cut herself off or give into what she wanted.

She reiterated to herself that she wasn't afraid to tell him how she might feel, or how she was starting to feel… she just didn't know if she was willing to do that to herself again. Sleeping with someone was one thing… she wasn't sure what would come of sleeping with Itachi.

She didn't want a repeat of Sasuke. She didn't want to _hurt_ someone again like she had him. She couldn't bear the level of disappointment she would place in herself.

"Sakura?"

"Huh?" Emerald-greens jerked towards Neji's questioning ones.

"I said we're here." He motioned to the gates.

"Oh… sorry."

"You alright?" He placed his hands on his hips and leveled a concerned look on her.

She nodded and reached over, rubbing her shoulder. "Yeah, just tired. It's like, what, midnight? I think I'm just gonna go home and hit the hay. I'll write up the report tomorrow."

"Nah I'll do it." He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Go get some sleep. I'll sign in for you at the gate too."

"You sure?" She raised a brow.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Thanks, Neji." She smiled, grateful to be out of mission report duty for once. "I owe you."

"Come by the compound a bit more and we'll call it even."

She chuckled. "Alright, night." She waved at him, and then at the two gate guards at their post before heading on.

The night air was cool, she noticed again. There was that ever present, subtle breeze shifting through as she moved in the direction of what was considered—by most—the unofficial shinobi district. During this hour the place as almost entirely shut down, with the exception of a bar or two, a twenty-four hour supply shop, and a small convenient store. However, during the day it was a bustle of movement for all walks of people in her career. Almost all of her team lived here. Ino had considered it her next choice when and if she moved out of her parent's place.

She gave a soft sigh, half in relief and half in exhaustion, as she made her way up the stairs to her second story abode. Her gloved hand slid along the iron rail that was chipping green flecks while her booted feet thumped against the concrete under her. Her free hand came up to rub circular motions into her temple just as she came to her door. Her other came up and she pressed her palm into the wooden barrier, quickly and smoothly releasing the seals. A second later and it closed behind her, cutting off the bright light of the moon.

She exhaled long and low, immediately sliding her pack off and dropping it on the hallway floor with thud; her sandals came next. It was then, as she stood up and moved down the hall that she noticed the light in her living room was on. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she took a step forward. Naruto and Sai were known to break into her house right before she came back from a mission; however, by now they would have let her know they were around…

Slowly, she moved around the corner, her hand poised above the clasp of her weapons pouch. Carefully, quietly, she slipped it open. The kunai was already in her hand as she came forward and into full view of her living space.

She blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Itachi?" She stood there for a while, staring at him where he sat in one of her comfiest chairs.

He looked rather relaxed, legs spread slightly and slouched back. His cloudy gray depths had looked up towards her the moment she came in, almost locking on her green ones. He was fairly well dressed and looked the same as he always did. Still, having been away two days did not detour the jump she felt in her chest at the sight of him… nor did it stop memories from resurfacing, quietly reminding her why she was attracted to this man and how it had very little to do with his face; although, that didn't really help either.

She frowned, just then realizing a good minute had passed with her woolgathering over the man before her.

"I'd ask you how you got in, but…" She smiled ruefully. "What are you doing here?" She replaced the kunai in her pouch and dropped her hand to her hip, resting it there.

"You're aware I can't cook."

"Uh…" Her brow furrowed at his sudden statement. She contemplated why it would matter and then said, "Yeah… but I left you some premade meals before my mission. All you had to do was microwave—."

"Can't."

Her eyes narrowed slightly and both hands came to her hips as she eyed him. Certainly he wasn't reverting back to… "I showed you how to use it."

He sighed and shut his eyes. His hand came up, elbow resting on the armrest, and cupped his cheek; he leaned into it on his left side. "I believe I broke it," he muttered.

"You broke it," she deadpanned.

"Yes."

There was a moment of quiet; it lasted for a good thirty seconds. "So…" Maybe it was sleep, but she wasn't quite sure how a broken microwave equaled him in her house waiting for her arrive back from her mission.

"I haven't eaten for a day and a half."

"_What?_" she half exclaimed, not quite able to help the rise in her voice, nor the widened eyes. "Why didn't you order out, for Kami's sake?"

"If you recall," he droned out, "someone banned me from ordering any and all take-out in Konoha."

"…Oh…" She frowned—deeply. Her hand came up and she pinched the bridge of her nose in slight frustration. "Itachi, then why in the hell didn't you notify Tsunade-sama?"

"Why should I have to when waiting for you was certainly adequate?"

Her eyes snapped to his now open ones, fury half present there. It really was a shame he couldn't _see_ how aggravated she was. "It wasn't adequate! You haven't eaten for a day and a half!" she snapped, hands out in front of her in exasperation.

He sighed again, appearing to look up at her through hooded lashes.

Bastard.

Her jaw flexed.

"I didn't want anyone else assisting me, Sakura."

"I'm sorry?" She blinked.

She wasn't sure, but he appeared to sigh again. "I'm not… comfortable with the idea of anyone else."

And just like that, the anger washed away at his honesty. In a single moment understanding and something akin to pride bloomed in her chest. Before she could even catch herself, to try and stop it—something—it was there.

She swallowed. "I… ah…" She closed her eyes and took in a breath. "I'll just go make you something to eat…" She walked out of the living room. She counted her steps idly, trying to refocus her mind and slow the beat in her chest.

The kitchen sat just behind her living room; it was almost adjacent to the front door. An opening and a counter separated her and Itachi as she shifted around in the cabinets. She set a pan out and gathered veggies from the fridge. She bent over, reaching for a package of red peppers. She moved to straighten up and—.

"Ah, _Kami_!" The package fell at her feet, clattering to the floor and dumping red peppers everywhere. "Son of a bitch!" She pulled herself up slowly and forced her back straight. Her face contorted in pain as she reached, trying to touch the knot.

"Sakura? Are you alright…?"

"Yeah… fine," she muttered before sucking breath through her teeth. "Damnit," she snapped quietly as her fingertips barely grazed the area.

"You don't sound fine."

"I'm fine!" She closed her eyes, trying not to sigh in exasperation. She shouldn't be yelling at him; it's not like it was his fault. He didn't ask for her to be an emotionally repressed idiot because of one simple admission, nor did he ask for her to deal with a knot she couldn't reach.

"Sakura?"

She jumped in surprise, facing her now slightly concerned ward. She released a breath and closed her eyes, trying to push down the pain waving over her spine because of that sudden movement. Her free hand lay on her chest. "I'm alright," she murmured. "Go… sit down."

Her eyes flashed open to his once she felt a pressure on her back. She opened her mouth to say something him, but then the pressure increased. "What—shit!" she snapped, wincing again.

"You are not fine. Come on." He took her arm and tugged for her to follow.

"Itachi, I told you. I'm—."

"You're in pain."

She blinked up at him. "Well… yes, but—."

"Are you going to fight me on what's best for you?" He raised a brow. "Pot calling the kettle black, isn't it, Sakura?"

She frowned. "That's different. I'm not you're patient."

And then he rolled his eyes.

She opened her mouth to reply with some kind of rebuttal, but stopped short as he bent over. Green eyes went wide. "What are you—Itachi!" In the fraction of a moment she was heaved into his arms. "This is—!"

"No different than how you've treated me, yes, I know." He smiled slightly. "I do recall a moment a month ago when my face was plastered to a kitchen island because of my bad behavior, and then there was the time I was told if I didn't do what was best for me I would find myself without any voluntary body movement of my own and stuck on an IV drip.

"Do you remember, Sakura? I was very stubborn."

She shook her head. He was not turning this around on her. "That's because you're my patient, Itachi. It's my job to see to your needs." She looked around as she realized he was lowering her on to something.

Her bed.

Oh… no, no, no…! "Itachi—!" she said, raising a hand as if to stop him.

"I really don't care what you want to call it, Sakura. You're in pain. You can't expect me to let you make my meal while crying out obscenities. Does that make any sense?

"Now take off the armor and roll over."

She felt slack-jawed. "….You're not going to let this go, are you?" Unfortunately, she wasn't in much of a position to argue, not really.

"No, I'm not."

It couldn't be that bad, right? All he had to do was rub the knot out. She could endure that. She'd endured worse, right?

"Alright…" she said, exhaling the word as she gave in. She reached up and slid the mask off; this was set on her nightstand, porcelain clattering softly. The side zipper on her first layer of armor came down; once done, she dropped it on the floor. The gloves, arm bracers and leg bracers came next. She reached for her shirt and slid it up and over before she though much of it.

It was just bindings. All of team seven had seen her in bindings. No big deal.

"Let me know when you're ready."

As she moved onto her stomach she adjusted a pillow. Once she'd relaxed down into the bed, happy enough with how she was laying, she spoke up, "I'm good."

Just when she thought she'd convinced herself that the situation couldn't possibly get any worse… she felt a weight settle on her butt. As her eyes widened a fraction his hands pressed into her half bare back.

Whatever she intended to come out of her mouth, the sound that exited next at his punctuated caress over her skin was _not_ it. She groaned and exhaled all on the same moment; her eyes fluttered closed and she was quite sure that somewhere in the mix was a hail to Kami or the Will of Fire.

His thumbs rode circles into her lower back, up her spine, and across her shoulder blades. His hands worked magic into her shoulders in a way she hadn't experienced since Tsunade had demonstrated on her how to do a medical chakra enhanced massage.

"Shit," she whispered in half reverence and half sluggishness.

In fact, she didn't feel too much pain that amounted to anything until he started working the knot itself. That was when her breath came in short pants, cut off by half pained inhales for oxygen.

She grunted and nearly screamed into her pillow until it was gone. And once it was… her back felt completely new; it made her wonder about the last time someone had given her a good work over on her back, much less the rest of her body.

"Thank you…" she whispered, not able to do much else as he continued to run his hands across her gently.

"My pleasure," he murmured back just as gently as he ran his fingers across the outer areas of her spine.

Perhaps it was the tone, the caress of his voice on her ears; she wasn't sure. But, the carefulness of it made her open her eyes and stare at her closet across from her bed. It was then she was suddenly much more aware of him than she had been before.

"I wasn't aware you were in ANBU…" he said next with the same soft voice.

"I'm not."

He stopped and she could sense his confusion. "Retired."

"Ah…" he said, once again continuing.

"Surprised?"

"No."

She winced as he pushed into a fairly sensitive area. She tensed.

"Sorry…"

"It's alright." She relaxed.

"How long?"

She blinked, lost for only a moment. It was hard to keep abreast of the conversation with his calloused fingers dancing over her skin. "A year when I was seventeen."

"Why'd you join?"

"Awfully inquisitive, aren't we?" she murmured, adjusting under him slightly. He lifted to accommodate her, stopping.

"Perhaps."

The air was shifting; she could feel it. In way, it had been since she'd walked into the apartment. There was just… something different going on between the two of them than before. But she wasn't stupid enough to think it hadn't been building. Still, ignoring…She didn't need to be so defensive.

She closed her eyes, pushing it back.

"For myself. For Sasuke." It was honest. And she almost regretted that honestly once she felt his hands still for a fraction of a second. "I didn't want to be second place, I guess. ANBU helped me do that. I stayed in just long enough to…"

"To be satisfied?"

"…Yeah." She opened her eyes slowly, halfway. "Being useless wasn't enough for me."

"I'm sure you weren't." Even now, his voice was still soft, whispering—just as much as hers.

"I couldn't see myself as anything less next to Naruto and Sasuke." The words came out in a strong breath, more to herself than in response to him. "It's never easy being on a team with two legends in the making…"

"It's never easy living up to someone's expectations, especially if they're your own."

There were memories in those words as much as they had been in hers. He stopped and she stilled, eyes narrowing. When he didn't move she turned, carefully rolling over onto her back so she could look up at him.

"Sakura."

He was close, he had been. She knew it was just her; he hadn't moved.

"What happened between you and Sasuke?"

He was looking at her, staring through her and into her with the same eyes he had on that night she'd cleaned him up. It was that moment again, him in the tub, looking at her as she soaped him up, hand poised on his chest as she watched him like a deer caught in the headlights.

She swallowed, unable to look away. Still, the jerky movement of her heart would not rest. She sighed and _forced_ herself to look away from him.

What in the hell was she doing? What was he doing? What was this?

"Sakura?"

His voice cut through her again, the memories, the feelings. His presence tugged at her in a way…

She pulled it all in, suffocating herself inadvertently. She wasn't sure if it was Sasuke or him, her memories or Itachi's presence that was making it so hard to talk about. Thinking about it, she'd never even really explained it to Naruto—not even Ino. There were a dozen misdirected conversations in her head.

But, Itachi wasn't easily deterred. And it wasn't easy to deter someone who made your blood rush like liquid flame, that made your chest ache to point of premature regret.

Before she could put much more effort or thought into it, she spoke, "After the war… things weren't easy. But, it was better. Naruto and I had spent just under a decade trying to find Sasuke, to try and bring him home.

"For Naruto it was a matter of brotherhood… for me…" she trailed off, processing her own memories. She stared at her closet, not seeing it, but herself months ago—Sasuke. "I was hopeful something would begin between us, but I would have been ok with friendship. I didn't really think he would be ready for anything, all considered."

"He asked you out."

She nodded, still not looking at him. "He started staying over at my place after about a week. Sometimes we would switch places between missions or work. It seemed odd to a lot of people, but I didn't care. I knew Sasuke was making up for lost time; he'd spent so much of his life hating himself and everyone else…"

She smiled softly, but not bitterly. "I spent my whole life chasing after him, trying to get myself to a place where I could say I was proud of myself, that I didn't need him to rescue me, and that I wasn't going to be a hindrance anymore.

"I told myself I was going to be a woman who didn't chase after anyone—even Sasuke."

She sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she was smiling again, once again without bitterness. "In the end I felt like fate had played me some awful hand; because, somewhere in the process, the man I labeled unreachable… labeled me unreachable."

"How do you mean?" he asked, finally speaking.

She turned, meeting blind eyes that saw so much more than anyone else. "I guess I wasn't what he expected." She shrugged. "I wanted so badly to be someone he wouldn't look down on that I became…" She trailed off, pausing as she thought for the right words. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Perhaps a little… a little more than reserved…

"Tsunade-sama jokes that I remind her a little _too_ much of Kakashi now and then. Until Sasuke… I never put much though into it."

"ANBU can do that you…" He said. "Life does… our career does that to us, Sakura—it shapes us, but there's not shame in that."

"I know." Another brief smile. "I don't hate myself for that. It doesn't hurt anymore. Not that way it did."

"But you blame yourself."

"I do." This she admitted without hesitation. "I blame myself for hurting Sasuke. I'm sure some part of him was waiting to come home, not just to team seven… but to me."

He shook his head. "Everyone grows up Sakura. You can't always be what people want you to be."

"No, but I can be careful."

"Careful?"

Dangerous territory, she told herself. Talking about this was far too close to the heart of what wasn't being said. Then, more than ever, she knew she couldn't be sure if he could _feel_ what was going on. "I think we'll save that for another time." She shifted, trying to get up from under him. But he didn't move; if anything he tightened his thighs over her hips.

She already knew where he was, where she was; she knew the position they were in, despite her best effort to ignore it. Talking had helped up until that point. Now she was so much more aware of him. She found herself staring between them as he half hunched over her, overpowering her in a way she couldn't really admit to herself, overwhelming her with his scent… something purely shinobi… purely male.

"Why do you need to be careful, Sakura?" he whispered. His warm breath was close; she could feel it.

"I don't want to hurt someone like that again…" she replied, her voice even despite everything else. "I can't."

"I'm not my brother, Sakura," he admitted softly.

Bright green depths shot to his cloudy-gray hues. She wished she could read what was there; although, perhaps it evened the field in a way—he couldn't see her eyes either.

He sighed. "I might not have the best experience with women, Sakura… however, I can usually tell when one is attracted to me."

"…I'm not denying it," she replied.

"But you're not admitting it either." His eyes narrowed naturally as his face took on a scrutinizing air.

She released a long exhale. It was hard to act controlled when nothing about any of this made her feel like she was in control. Which, was out of place in and of itself… she never felt like she had to fight for control with Itachi. But, it wasn't _him_… it was her own physical and emotion reaction she was trying to repress and figure out.

"Well…then I guess I'm just going to come out and say it, Haruno." He moved forward, placing both hands—palms flat—to either side of her shoulders on the mattress.

Something inside of her jumped as he came in closer, inches from her face.

"…Can I kiss you?"

Anyone else would have just kissed her. If anyone else had asked her, she would have been hard pressed not to laugh at the old fashioned manner of it all, despite the thick cover in the air around them—despite the cracking chain that surrounded her reservations about the situation and him. But it didn't make her want to laugh; instead, she found her heart caught somewhere in her throat.

She wasn't sure how to answer that. There was this part of her that wanted to give in because she did feel something for him. And then, there was the other part that wasn't sure she could handle hurting someone—especially someone like Itachi—again. In many ways, he was far more fragile than his sibling…

But it was different.

The part that made her wanted to give in was the same part that tied all those memories over the past month with him together. It was the way he made her feel when she was with him. Sasuke had never made her feel… apart of him.

Itachi understood her. There was a firm, binding friendship borne of their relationship. Maybe it was her experience… maturity, maybe it was because she was his equal more than she was Sasuke's because of their time together. She didn't know, but… such thoughts were present now more than ever as she lay there… as he hovered over her waiting for an answer.

Everything was breaking, cracking and the longer she dwelled on it the less and less she wanted to fight herself.

What would it hurt… to give in—really?

He was right there… wanting her—if for nothing more than a kiss.

She reached up; slowly, her fingertips moved across his cheek. She watched his brows raise and his face move into a mixture of confusion and… anticipation?

Her thumb rode a trail across the upper curve of his cheek just below his right eye. In advertently, her digits slid into his hair. She stared at it.

"The first time I combed it… I thought it was a little unfair…" She swept her hand out, slowly pulling his bangs away from his face on his right side. "I love how soft it is," she said in a whisper.

Before her plaguing thoughts could make much more of her indecision, and before he could say anything, she moved forward and took advantage of his open mouth. His stilled in surprise initially. But, once she started to move, once her lips caressed over his, once her tongue entered into his mouth and swept across his own softly, he reciprocated. He inhaled sharply through his nose and took hold of the side of her face. He settled down onto her carefully, slanting his mouth over hers for a better angle in one single, smooth transition of movement.

He was warm, soft, and everything about it was so much more than she imagined it to be.

She tangled her hands into his hair; in the same moment she undid the ribbon holding his long strands in place. Her fingers combed through it, feeling it before she dug them into his scalp at the base of his neck.

_Soft_.

She could feel his hand on her side, calloused digits trailing over her bare flesh; his thumb traced over her stomach, following the dips and curves. Her skin reacted instantly; her abdominal jumped and goosebumps pricked.

She gasped softly, nigh mutely.

As she pressed further into the kiss, inhaling deeply through her nose in more than reaction to just his touch, her free hand went to his chest. She went lower and tugged at his shirt, pulling it up until her bare skin met his. He jerked sharply at the contact instantly; even as he did she didn't stop. Both hands came down and she pulled at the shirt, trying to take it off.

"Sakura…" he breathed in mix of a statement and question all at once. The firm pressure of his lips pulled away from hers. At the same time she felt as he set his forehead against hers and took hold of one of her wrists, stilling her.

His breath was erratic across her face, her mouth. As she lay under him, trying to catch her own momentum, with her bare hands half plastered on his chest and stomach, she quietly noted the heavy hammering of his heart—the heat demanding more as it crept into every pour. As she felt her own pump blood, quietly and angrily, she could barely make out the near unified beat they paced together.

Nearly perfect tandem.

"What?" she whispered in a broken voice.

She could feel him swallow; she could hear it; her whole body hummed in direct reaction to him—to his actions and reactions. "I wasn't intending to go that far."

If her eyes were open she might have blinked. As it was, confusion set in with little more than a barely furrowed brow on her part. "Did I do something to upset you?" she asked quietly.

He tensed under her; his grip tightened around her wrist by a bare fraction. "…No, it's nothing like that."

"Are you nervous?" It occurred to her she should have asked with a little more tact; however, it wasn't easy to manage tact with the given situation. There was a reason discretion was the better part of valor and not haste, she supposed.

"Are you?"

A question with a question; that was more her style than his, and, more Kakashi's than hers. "That's part of the fun. I'd be a dead fish not to be.

"Yes, I'm nervous." As she spoke, the free hand on his chest pressed an idle circle, caressing; her fingers moved gently, though just barely.

He sighed long and low. In turn, the grip on her wrist softened. He almost mimicked her actions by gently running his thumb up and down the inside of her wrist. He pulled away from her face; his lips drug along her cheek and towards her ear. She shivered only a little as his hot breath fanned over neck, across her shoulder and her ear. Her lips parted only just as her body tensed for a moment under such a simple movement.

As she relaxed he said, "I don't want to disappoint you."

"I think that feeling is fairly mutual for most people with someone new."

He sunk into her, pressing his hips fully into hers with the barest of actions. As he released her hand she moved to accommodate him; her hands fell to his hips and partially his back. As he naturally sunk into all the right places atop her—completely—the thickness of him settled fully between her legs and partially against her right thigh.

"I certainly hope this isn't you way of implying you're not _adequate_, because if it is I—."

"That's not the problem either, Sakura."

She frowned. "Then how could you possibly disappoint…" She paused, one single thought striking quickly and immediately. It rolled around in her head for a time, perhaps a minute at most.

As if reading her, he said next, "I was fifteen when I left Konoha, Sakura. And while I was with Akatsuki it wouldn't have been safe to keep a lover. Taking the occasional visit to a brothel would have signaled to shinobi searching after me an opening. Taking a trusted lover would have put someone at risk… Neither was an acceptable option." His voice wasn't what she would call strained… she could hear the tension all the same.

It was probably one of the bigger bombs she'd had thrown at her, especially in the middle of something so intimate. Sasuke hadn't been her first, but she hadn't been his either; a fact that might have upset her a few years prior to months ago… Even so, she recalled her first easily. It had been messy, quick, and a little painful; not because of a hymen though. Kunoichi rarely had a hymen by the time they acted on sex—mostly because of the athletic demand of their career.

She hadn't wanted roses her first time, no fairy tale dream to gain and burn into the scrapbook of her mind. Release from her aches, release from the all of the tears, blood, sweat and anguish she'd thrown into the return of the man she once loved. _That's_ what she'd wanted.

"Sex isn't about compounding more stress, Itachi. More the opposite, actually.

"I'm not going to catalogue your every action and judge you."

"I know that."

She reached for his head then, pulling him up so that she could look at him. He moved as she did so, lifting up to accommodate her. In that position he wasn't very far from her face; his lips were scarcely inches from her own. She locked her eyes on his; green met unseeing hazed coal. "Then—for once—quit worrying about the details and trying to preemptively calculate everything, Uchiha."

"Easier said than executed."

At this humorous, yet serious whispered admission, she smiled.

"Just stop thinking," she muttered before her lips pressed softly, yet firmly into his. This time it took him less encouragement than the first to kiss her back. He met her almost readily, perhaps fiercer than before. One hand came to her side again, moving to her hip; his thumb traced the waistband of her pants, half pressing into her bare skin and half into the material of her standard issue capris. His free arm, the elbow, held him up while his hand partially tangled in her hair and cupped the back of her neck. Once more, he angled his mouth across hers.

Her hands reached for the back end of his shirt; she tugged it upward, pulling until he adjusted and helped her remove it completely. Where it landed in their seamlessness, she couldn't be sure.

He was hard, toned, fibrous muscle—everywhere. When his abdomen pressed against hers, skin on skin, she knew then that the rest of it couldn't come off sooner. Heat—molten, liquid heat; it rushed through her, urging her. Her thoughts weren't there; she was lost on the energy of it all—of him.

She couldn't smell anything but him. With each kiss the taste of him became that much stronger. But wasn't just that, and she knew it; she knew _why_ this was all so much more.

She slid up slightly under him, tugging at the clasp of her pants. It surprised her a little that once he realized what she was doing that he moved to help her speed up the process. In their haste not only did those find their way to the mysterious pile location, but, so did her underwear.

She could tell he was hiding the shake in his hands as they both fumbled with removing his. Once they were gone her lips found his again. She took advantage of the fact that he was still sitting and placed her hand on his chest; he was on his back in an instant.

As she loomed over him she said in a low voice, "Have you stopped thinking yet, Uchiha?"

…

If there was ever a time in the last seven months of his life that he wished he could see it was then. As it stood, all of his other senses were on fire. On one hand, he wanted to tug her under him again and force her to let him touch, taste and breathe in every inch of her so that by the time he was finished the memory had no real chance of escape; he wanted it burned into his brain. On the other hand, he couldn't stop that gripping hesitance that made him second guess it all, that made him try to wrap his mind around each move he made five steps before he made it.

Her voice rang out in his ears, breathy and a little foreboding all at once. Naturally, he tried to imagine what she was plan—.

_Warmth, wetness, heat…_

Her name jerked beyond the passage of his lips just as the comforter under him nearly tore in his grip.

Her hands were on his hips, holding him without force.

Thoughts escaped him completely.

He gasped, fighting for air as… yes, her _mouth_ worked over him. He couldn't stop the image that came to mind. He couldn't keep himself from visualizing her tangled mess of half bound hair falling from the confines of the braid and draping over her shoulders as her soft lips pulled his length into her mouth almost completely—over and over again.

He saw her meeting his eyes, staring him through hooded lashes with a smile in her gaze.

He shuddered raggedly—repeatedly and without control or any sort of pattern; his hand reached for her headboard; one came down and tangled into her hair on what he could only call instinct.

"Sakura…" he rasped, tugging at her gently.

I she didn't stop…

_Fuck!_

His jaw clenched and he sucked in air through his teeth; he pulled, tugging on her. In the less instinctual part of his mind he hated whatever pain he inflicted; but then, it was becoming increasingly hard for him to hold onto any such notion of sanity.

She was under him; his hands locked over her wrists. His body moved on its own; his hips bucked into hers at the same time, seeking friction and the slick heat. He could feel her breasts, not for the first time, flat and bare against his chest.

He admonished her with his mouth. A groan escaped him as his tongue tangled with hers and she lifted, arching into him, rolling her hips upward so that her center drew along every inch of him. He gasped, jerking hard enough to involuntarily pull his lips from hers for air. His forehead bumped onto hers and his hold on her wrists increased.

He needed to slow down. He needed to—.

_Teeth._

She bit into his neck, licking a wanton path and branding him in her wake. "_Sakura_," he rasped. He didn't know how to convey slow down, especially when everything was telling him the opposite.

Her lips were back; his lower lip was tugged into her mouth; she nipped lightly and then pressed up into him harder, fuller. Her legs wrapped about his hips; her entire front—warm, wanting, willing—stuck to his as if she were apart of him.

"Itachi_…_" she exhaled, her head thrown back.

He shut his eyes as that one word—his name—washed over him and mixed with what he was already experiencing. All he could smell was honeysuckle; all he feel was her slick skin sliding against his own; all he could hear was her tortured voice in his ear. He wanted to sink into her, drink her in, bathe in the moment.

His thoughts consumed half based instincts and half based logic as he kissed her neck, the underside of her ear, and her collarbone. Salt lingered on his lips, his tongue. He sucked, nipped, inhaled every curve of skin in his path. His grip loosened; one hand came up and reached down, feeling down her side as he fumbled, her arm, until he could feel her hip. As his grip settled to cup the curve of her butt he gripped, pulling her closer. A moan was captured by her lips and he felt a trail of bare pain along his back—her nails. They dug into his scalp and she angled his head, deepening the action. She moaned with him, thrusting upward and nearly undoing him.

He could feel as her hand moved between their bodies and slid across his abdomen. When she took hold of him his fingers dug into her, reflexively biting into her flesh. Before he could contemplate stopping her, she positioned him and thrust upward—consuming him. Her hands were around him; her arms took him fully and tightened as she cried out against his mouth. The sound reverberated and became apart of his own outcry into her.

They stilled.

Breath mixed with heat; heat mixed with a unified shudder; sweat mixed with skin and transferred from one surface to the next.

"…Are you alright?" he asked softly, forcing himself to remain as he was when everything continued to scream _move_.

Being the barest of inches from her, he could somehow sense as she nodded. "…Yeah. You?"

"I believe so, yes," he managed.

He was so comfortable with every aspect of her; however this… this was new. And somehow, finally breaking that barrier… his own fear and hesitation was gone. He didn't really understand it, but felt it even as she kissed him gently, tentatively. Her lips were soft and now he could take the time to actually _experience_ it for more than just a brief moment between them.

She realized it a well. As he started to move her movements became slower but no less punctuated. Her fingers wove through his hair, caressed across his scalp; her thumbs drew over his cheeks as she kissed him lazily and passionately all at once.

Every action was seamless between them, like water. No words were needed. And yet, it did nothing to kill to the burning flame that burned through his veins with every touch, taste and inhale between the two of them.

He wanted to see her.

He wanted to stare into her eyes. He wanted to watch her expression as her lips parted, as her jaw flexed, and he drove into her. He wanted to watch her as he died inside of her. It wasn't enough; smelling her, feeling her, all of it—it wasn't _enough_.

"I wish I could see you," he rasped against her neck, across her ear just before he drew the lobe into his mouth.

Her her nails tore into his skin as she drove upward for the angle and met his rhythm.

"Me too," she replied, her voice straining as their pace quickened.

"You're beautiful," he whispered back between broken kisses as she started to tighten around him.

"I…!"

At the same moment they clung to one another. He gasped as she cried out in his ear, arching into him and poising, tightening. Her muscles pulsed around him so much so that he couldn't really help falling after her. Her name was a mantra on his lips, breaking free against her ear as he thrust once, twice, three times more into her.

Tension left him as she inadvertently relaxed into her. There were no sounds aside the mutual, broken air they pulled into their lungs and released together. He couldn't find the will to roll over, and didn't for what felt like hours after it all ended. But eventually—somehow—he made himself do so and dropped onto his back next to her, sinking.

The silence continued onward for a long while. Yet, as he lay there half falling into sleep he felt her move in next to him, curling at his side. Gently, lazily, he accommodated for her. He was nearly asleep, his arm around her waist as his breath slowed and his mind faded into some deeper reaches of preemptive slumber.

It was in this moment he heard her ask, "So… how _did_ you break the microwave?"

Apparently, you were never really too tired to laugh.

* * *

**AN ::** Yo! OMG! It's been like, two freaking months! I was so aggravated this update took so long. I do my best to update my fics once a month. Sorry, guys. But, onto stuff about the chapter.

Yeah, answers! A new level of intimacy! Progress! Let the mushiness commence! Go on, say it: Awwwww! No, seriously, this chapter was over 8.6k words—no joke. Hope you guys enjoyed it. And I hope it all flowed well. Don't worry about letting me know either way; honesty helps me improve.

**Next Chapter**: Sakura talks to Sasuke about the cross-transplantation.

On a side note: I'm writing original work now! I have the first chapter of my free series on wattpad[dot com!]. This week I'll be doing chapter two for it. So, **if you guys like my writing **and want to see what I can do non-Naruto—go to wattpad[dot com][forward slash]2215251-the-chronicles-of-rose-red-not-your-average-fairy. Read the summary on the side bar there and see if it interests you. There's a link to a facebook page so you can get updates as well.

I'll be replying to all of my reviews soon!

Thanks!

—**Blade**

**P.S. **Saw the Sasuke thing at the end of last chapter! I'll fix it! Thanks to those who let me know about it.


	8. Chapter Eight

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**Eight|**Huit

The morning sun was rising slowly beyond the crowded mesh of green. It brought a glow of vapor to the field; morning dew evaporated across the fragmented patches of damp grass and dirt.

He inhaled deeply, shutting his kohl lashed lids and upturned his face to the rising warmth. Chin length ebony bangs shifted in a brief breeze, kissing his cheeks just barely. The caress of air slipped through the black and silver mesh of his shirt and over his bare forearms. It ruffled his navy blue standard issue capris and brought goosebumps to his bare calves.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, revealing depths as black as his hair.

It couldn't be past eight AM, he mused himself. A perfect day for sparing… training; clear skies, fresh morning air… While he would never admit it out loud, he felt it was so. And at the same time, he would never denounce it. Although, there were a select few people, such as Sakura and Naruto… even Kakashi… who would see what he didn't say just by looking at his eyes—even Sai during one of his rare moments. This was another thing he would never admit, not even to them when they called him out on it.

He gave a half sigh from where he sat perched on a tall tree stump and looked beyond the path just across the practice area. While it was unusual for Sakura to be late by even a minute, much less a second, he couldn't say he was worried about her—only curious. Normally, she would be here a good fifteen minutes before he was. There was a chance she could have gotten called in for hospital work, or, she might have come in late from a mission. He knew she shouldn't have any at the moment, but exceptions happened.

Just as these thoughts swept through his mind Sakura jogged from the path and across the way to him, looking only a little out of breath.

"Am I late?"

"Barely."

"That's good," she replied as she brushed a few stray leaves off her red top. "I worried it was more, so I took the shortcut."

His right brow rose. "I can see that."

She gave him a curious blank face before smiling. "Good to go?"

He hopped of the stump, now wondering why she hadn't explained why she was late. She was more private now than she ever had been before, but it was odd for her to not say anything about it. "What'd you want to work on today?"

She was in the process of pulling on her gloves. "Standard game? No summons and nothing big enough to get ANBU sniffing?"

He smiled earnestly, though crookedly and candidly. It didn't fill his face, but brought out his best features in a genuine way. "I thought you wanted to _work_ on something today; trouble areas."

Her nose wrinkled as she adjusted the fit of the leather wrapping her fingers. "I'm not on a diet, Sasuke." She gave a shrug. "Its morning and I need some physical caffeine. If you're too tired just—."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes and held his hands up just to his chest in mock surrender. "I'm good. Don't start acting like Naruto, not when you're the only—just barely—sane one on this team."

She grinned.

Not bothering to wait for a reply he was only going to continue receiving with a grin he turned and walked twenty or so paces from her. When he moved to face her Kusanagi was pulled from her sheathe; the motion was fluid with the rest of his body. He watched as Sakura picked up a rock from the ground next to her, gave him a quick look of confirmation, and then tossed it into the air.

Two sets of eyes followed its movement, simultaneously narrowing as it descended.

The moment it met with terra firma they began.

Feet beat like pounding of two hearts in tandem. Sasuke drug his sword, sharp edge towards the ground; it just barely whispered across the dirty topsoil, singing as it cut through the air.

Sakura's hands were aglow with blue-green energy. As he came upon her, cutting sideways as he came to a digging stop, she faded from his sight. He barely registered her body flying over his head while his Sharingan activated. He twisted away from her, kicking as she moved to elbow him in the back. She ducked, reassigning her movement halfway to avoid it. He watched her draw low; her hands pressed into the ground and as she moved her leg to sweep under his one his eye widened. He wouldn't be able to recover quickly enough.

His back hit solidly and hard; he grunted and rolled away as her fiery fist smashed just where he'd been laying. He came to stand as she was on him again, fists flying. He dodged and tried to cut her.

Some would say it wasn't wise to show up at a sword fight with nothing but your fists, but those people didn't know Sakura.

With her it was completely different.

Naruto always talked a lot, and he was quick to return it in his own single to three word ways. They upped the ante a lot for one another; however, when he and Sakura fought, there generally were no words. Not because they weren't talking; it was a matter of choosing how to speak. They didn't use their mouths, but instead their actions.

In a breath of movement she was up close and personal once more, as she had been gradually inching into his working space. He ground his teeth together. All it took was one touch; he knew better.

He jumped back, creating space again as she drove head-long towards him. His Kusanagi was driven outward and towards her. She skittered to a stop just barely and clapped her hands together, still moving as her feet drew friction across overturned grass and soil. Halfway through the fluidity of his motion—the same motion of attacking with the point of his blade while in a partial kneel with one hand behind him—two pillars of solid rock came up and grasped his weapon. It held tight as he tried to pull it back out.

Bad move.

He inhaled sharply as he looked up. He had half a second to dive out of the way as she drove her whole body, right fist first, into the ground where he'd been standing.

Taijutsu was over; she'd made the first move on that. Nevermind the fact it was her strong suit.

A solid hour passed with the same savage, unspoken, driven method that was their own. In the end, Sakura found herself on her back, breath knocked out of her, weary, and calling the morning's victory to him—not that it really mattered anymore, as he was just as weary due to their unsupervised playtime.

"Feel better?" she asked as she pulled herself up, crossed her legs under her; her each foot rested under its respective thigh. She pulled a bottle of water out of her hip pouch and drank vigorously.

"I didn't feel bad to begin with," he replied before drinking from his own bottle and sitting not far from her. "Lunch," he muttered single-wordily, thinking it enough.

She raised a brow. "Don't you usually meet Naruto for that?"

He gave her a mock glare. "I'm not in the mood for ramen."

"Ah." She nodded and took another sip.

"He's with Hinata today anyway."

"They're getting serious…"

"I suppose."

Sakura exhaled long and wearily, glad she looked tired enough to cover up an emotional action with a physical one; she wasn't sure if this would be the right place or time to talk about…

"Sasuke?"

"Hm?"

Her face took on a thoughtful expression as she placed her elbow on her knee and her chin in her open palm. "Are you busy later tonight? Like, after… eleven?"

He blinked uncharacteristically and only once.

She frowned. "Well, _I_ don't know. You might have a date—."

"No, I'm not," he quickly interrupted. "Why?"

She sighed this time, obviously and broke his gaze. "I've got some things I've got to do today. But, I need to talk to you about something privately. Do you mind if I come by then?"

"…No."

"Good." She nodded, satisfied the semi-hard part was over. Sasuke, being Sasuke and not Naruto, would never bother to ask her what it was about.

She stood up. "See you later then?" She dusted off her backside.

He pulled himself up as well. "Come have lunch with me."

She hesitated and eyeballed the sky, obviously trying to figure out the time. "Well… I guess. Maybe an hour at most."

He nodded.

She chuckled and slapped his back before digging her hands into her short's pockets and walking off. "You just don't want to look like a weirdo eating alone. I know."

He smirked, but didn't respond as he followed her out and back to the path.

…

"I'll take two dango, please."

"Ten fifty," an elderly voice replied.

Itachi reached for the wallet in his pants pocket; once brought forth, he opened it and felt for the folds for what bills were what. No ten bills, he thought. He took one of the twenties and held it out to Noin. "Well?"

"It's a twenty," she confirmed for him quietly.

With responding he handed the bill to the stand worked and waited for his change. Once again, he held it out for Noin to inspect; once again, she confirmed it was the correct amount.

"Thank you," he said after he got his order and dropped with the change he'd received; without waiting for a reply, he walked away in the same moment.

There was a grateful shout of thanks to his back, but he didn't say anything in return as he gave Noin one of the orders. He listened as she generously chewed up the desert as he handed one off to her one at a time.

"That was a large tip," she commented.

He shrugged. "I reward honesty."

"I guess so." She yawned next; he could hear it to his right as they strode down the village road back towards the house.

"Have fun last night?" she asked. He could hear the smile in her voice. And, he could feel her eyes on him, waiting for him to react in some way.

"I suppose that would depend on what you are referring to."

She snorted. "I can smell it all over you. Be sure to stay away from Pakkun's brat, or he will too. Doubt you want Kakashi breathing down your neck for rolling around with one of his pups."

Now it was his turn to consider snorting. He didn't however. "Sakura is no longer a _pup_, Noin. She's a grown woman who makes her own decisions, retried ANBU no less. Somehow I doubt Kakashi would even—."

"Ha. Once a pup, always a pup," she interrupted him.

He let it go; there wasn't much point in arguing with Noin, not when she got it in her head she was right.

"So, how serious is it?"

"Why are you asking me these questions?" he felt to ask, mostly because he didn't want to answer them. It was not his policy to kiss and tell… at least he thought it was, not having a lot of experience in said area.

She sighed, sounding exasperated. "You do realize I _always_ know what you're feeling right? Kind of comes with the whole bond-animal thing, Uchiha. I can't exactly ignore it when I can tell something is on your mind."

This time he did sigh, long and hard. Of course he knew, he just tended to forget about it, like anything else one grew accustomed to.

"I'm not really concerning myself with the details," he admitted truthfully. "For now, I'm just letting it be and seeing where it goes." He shrugged as he turned a familiar right down the dirt path after the adequate number of steps was achieved.

"Not a bad route," she agreed, following next to him still.

He hadn't exactly expected things to go the way they had last night—at all. One moment he was trying to help ease her pain and the next… things just fell into place naturally. He wasn't ashamed or upset about the events that transpired, nor was he particularly worried.

However, the part of him that liked to calculate everything five or ten steps ahead of himself in order to take the best proper action nagged at him.

When she'd left him this morning she'd been quiet, soft spoken and laughed in his ear that she'd see him later; he could lock up when he left, seeing as how he figured out how to get in fairly easily. A gentle kiss was pressed to his brow and then she'd disappeared, saying she'd had something to do.

And he'd found he missed her more than when she'd been gone for the mission.

The sense of being bereft wasn't overwhelming, but it was there all the same. It was perhaps stronger now that they'd taken their friendship into a realm of something entirely new and more intimately involved.

In the back of his head, the emotional and calculating part of himself was asking what she thought of it all and how she felt. Yet, each time he tried to sort it out and reason out what to do or how to handle it all from here out the results were blank. He couldn't really mathematically manage how she would react down the long run.

Then again, it was hard to work out how someone would act or not act given that you were directly involved in the equation. He was biased; which, made it a little more frustrating.

And thus, in the end, he'd just concluded it was better to not worry about it as best as he could. For now it would be better to take it one moment at a time and not worry about the future. Depending on where things went he could and would then.

"Itachi, where are you going? We're here."

He paused, flashed his technique, and realized she was right. Somehow he'd miscounted the steps—distractedly—and walked a good foot past his open gate. "I had a moment," he replied as she turned around and followed next to her.

The porch was solid under his feet as he stepped up and across to the door, only to find it open.

"Sakura's about," Noin provided as he opened the screen door and she slipped in ahead of him.

"Itachi?"

"It's me," he confirmed as he let the screen door fall back against its frame gently. He crossed the room, a little surprised not to hear or smell food cooking in the kitchen for once. His brows rose as he came to gently bump the edge of the table with his upper thigh.

"I figured we'd celebrate your unbanning from take-out by getting… take-out." There was a smile in her voice as the sounds of plastic bags rustling began.

"Oh?"

She chuckled and he heard styrofoam sliding against itself as he stepped across the way to her, making sure to count correctly to the island he was positive she stood next to as she worked.

Her voice was directed at him as she spoke; she was looking at him. "That, and after my training session with your brother this morning and I was too worn out to cook. Sorry, hope you don't mind." Her smile had to be small, curious… her voice sounded as much.

Sakura blinked slowly, once or twice. A hesitant smile did cross her features as she paused and watched as he appeared to look at her. She didn't know why she felt guilty about being with Sasuke this morning… other than maybe the surgery she had yet to speak with him about. Which, was silly. There was nothing to feel guilty about. Sasuke was her team mate; of course she'd train with him… But…

She blinked, stilling as he reached up and touched her face. A calloused hand curved over her cheek, rested and then a thumb caressed softly. She watched as a brief half smile, half smirk became visible before he dipped in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. For a short time her eyes closed, her hands dropped to the counter to rest and she fell into him. She inhaled softly as his fingers bare combed into her hair, into that area just behind her ear. And just like that… he was gone.

"Not at all," he murmured just loud enough for her to hear before he turned and took a seat at the table.

She stared at him for only a moment longer before she made their plates and came to sit down.

As she ate her small amount she thought about what they were going to do for the day. A good five minutes passed by before she felt like he'd eaten enough to want to converse. "I figured we could start with weapons today, if you want. I brought a few things with me in a duffel bag."

He nodded and wiped his mouth. "I don't see why not… Unless you've changed your mind."

She chuckled. "I don't think I would have brought the bag if I had."

"Sakura."

The pinkette blinked as Noin nudged her leg. She blinked down at her and then smirked. "Since when are you so quiet?"

The dog looked like she was frowning. "Bathroom," she muttered.

She smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"Nope, had dango. I'm just gonna go upstairs and take a nap. Wanted to let you know I was going to put hair all over Itachi's bed."

Itachi made a noise that sounded something like a grunt and Sakura laughed. "I see. But, you should know sweets like that—." She stopped short only because the wolfy mutt was halfway up the stairs and mostly out of earshot.

So, Sakura gave a soft laugh and rolled her eyes. "I suppose you were the one to give her dango."

He shrugged. "I don't treat her often. It's not as if I could have prior."

"I don't think you want to get into a fight with me about your _past _eating habits—which, by the way, were worse than Naruto's." Sakura stood and took her plate to the kitchen. "And that's saying something considering that boy lives and breathes salt-laden ramen."

Finished as well, Itachi stood and followed her into the kitchen as he heard the clatter of her plate and utensils.

"You could have a better bedside manner."

She snorted as she turned to look over at him; she shifted back to make room for him to put his stuff in the sink as well. "No one else complains."

He smirked. "Too afraid to, I imagine."

Had he just called her scary? "Hey now—."

"Hello?"

Sakura's head jerked towards the kitchen opening as a familiar voice trailed from the screen door. "Kakashi?" she called out, stepping into the open dining area and living space. She gave a smile at him on the other side of the door. "Come in. We were just finishing lunch."

"Glad I didn't interrupt anything," he replied as he stepped in.

He was in his usual Jounin uniform, Sakura noted without surprise. It's was rare to see him in anything, and almost humanizing when he chose to. "What can I do for you?"

He scratched the back of his head. "I was coming up this way, going to training grounds for a bit to run through work out. Thought I'd drop by and see how things were."

She suppressed the urge to blink at that, but didn't comment how odd that remark seemed. Kakashi rarely did anything without a purpose.

"Hello Itachi." He looked around briefly and smiled softly under the fabric of his mask. "Things look better since I was last here."

"I suppose so," he replied behind Sakura.

She smiled wider. "Well, since you're here… and you were going to work out anyway… Would you mind some practice work with Itachi? I'm kinda worn out from this morning with Sasuke. Plus, I need to see what he's doing without actually being involved." Might as well take advantage of him until he reveals himself, she mused.

His eyes slid from Itachi, to her as she spoke, and then back to Itachi. "I heard something about you learning to fight all over again…"

"I have been. We're starting weapons today."

"You don't mind do you?" she asked sweetly.

He sighed. "I doubt I have much of choice." There was humor hidden in his tone.

She chuckled. "If it makes you feel better, we got take out. So you can at least eat before we start."

"I think I'll take you up on that."

An hour later had Sakura sitting on a large rock in Itachi's back yard watching as he and Kakashi went through the rounds. Kakashi wasn't going too hard on him, which said a lot for Itachi's improvement. Overall, she was happy with how things had come along for him. He still wouldn't be able to take on missions, but if he had to defend himself he was more than capable of doing so.

Well, unless the surgery happened…

She refused to frown.

There was no reason to be nervous. Sasuke loved his brother. They just didn't have a real way to approach one another. She wasn't going to facilitate that; it wasn't like her to be nosey and pushy like Naruto. Not unless she had to.

Off topic, she berated herself.

She couldn't help it though. She wasn't even sure how to start the conversation with Sasuke. And she didn't want to talk to Itachi about first because she didn't want to get his hopes up. He wouldn't be obvious about it, but still. It just made more sense to ask Sasuke about it first. Neither would get mad over anything so trivial as who was asked first.

"You guys done?" she asked as Kakashi came over to her, Itachi not far behind.

"I think so. I've got some other things to do today."

She nodded and stood up.

"I'm going to take a shower, Sakura."

"Alright," she replied to Itachi before he turned around and headed back to the house. She noted Kakashi watching her as her gaze followed the elder Uchiha. As soon as he was back inside she looked over at him. Her hands went to her hips. "So, tell me what the real reason is for stopping by?"

"Never could pull anything over you."

She rolled her eyes. "Compliments won't get you out of it. Not that you want to be, or you'd be gone by now.

"What do you want to talk to me about?"

"Fair enough, I guess." His single black eye roved over to the house again. He dug his hands into his pockets. "There are about four people who know what's going on with Itachi right now; at least, on a deeper level than most.

"To sum it up, I'm one of those people and Tsunade told me about the surgery."

She blinked, not entirely sure what she was surprised about. "…Are you interested in—."

"No, I don't think it would work that well for me. Not until a little more research is done. No, I'm here because of you." He was looking at her now.

She frowned. "Is this some latent attempt at being a caring father figure?" Her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed over her chest.

"I'm worried about how deep you're getting into this."

Her jaw flexed. "I swear, if you tell me he's not Sasuke, I'm going to—."

"Are you sure that's not what this is?" He scrutinized her, his one eye searching her own two.

"Kakashi—!"

"It's a valid question, Sakura." His voice was deep and calm, lacking any humor.

"No, I'm not confusing him for Sasuke. Kami," she muttered, looking away from him. Her focus stopped on a tree. "I'm _over_ Sasuke. It's been months…"

"Don't discount all those _years_,Sakura."

"We didn't work, alright? I'm not the same person. Isn't that obvious?" Her gaze locked on his again.

"I know you've changed. You don't need to tell me, Sakura." His voice was less chastising and softer. "I'm just worried about you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"If I get hurt it'll be my fault," she replied. "Look… I'm just not that girl and…"

"I'm not surprised," he said suddenly.

"Huh?" She blinked, confused at the change.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't trying to make this out be something it wasn't. I'm glad you're not. But, knowing that? I'm not surprised. You have a lot in common with him."

She just stared at him.

He smiled. "You both have a kind heart, even when you're too busy hiding it under a layer of protection."

She snorted eventually. "…So said the pot to the kettle."

He laughed then, ruffled her hair and turned around to go. "More than you know."

And then, in that mysterious Kakashi way that made Kakashi Kakashi, he left in a poof of smoke… as if she was still twelve and need dramatic shows of skill to impress her about him.

She shook her head and walked back to the house.

Silly man; somehow he'd manage to kill her nervousness for a few hours.

…

"Leaving?"

Green orbs blinked, darting upward from the couch where she'd been going through her bag. In that moment Itachi was right next to her. She smiled and turned to him. "Yeah, you'll be fine though, right Mr. Self-Sufficient?"

His calloused hands fumbled along her neck, almost startling her, and then reached up to curve along her cheeks. His forehead touched hers as he shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, tips of his fingers curling into her pink locks.

She stilled and her eyes softened. Her hands came up gently and pressed into his chest, staying there.

"I have to tell you," he whispered, "I miss you every time you're gone."

In romance novels there was always that fluffy moment writers talked about the instant you knew someone was _that_ person; or, at the very least, told you that you knew you had a thing for _a_ person, but might not know right away they were _the one_.

Sakura couldn't say with certainty she believed all that hogwash, even if it had given her a secretly dark warm fuzzy when she read them, but, she could say this was way up there. There were no metaphorical fireworks or dazzling stars blinding her vision; however, her heart did feel heavy, her skin felt warm, and somewhere—in that place emotions move about—something dropped in a good way. She almost lost her voice.

It was _silly_ and perhaps a little over dramatic, but it was there all the same. It was especially there when he started kissing her like he would never see her again, like she was the only thing in the world.

"You're very good at that," she managed to whisper once he pulled away slowly.

He smiled at her and then hugged her, enveloping her in his somewhat larger frame. "Sure you can't stay?"

"I'd love to, but I have to do something important tonight." She pulled away from. "I'll be back tomorrow, same as always. At least until you get sick of me."

"Doubtful, but I imagine Tsunade will put you back on regular duties soon."

"Probably," she agreed as she went back to zipping up her bag. "Tell you what though, I'll bring an overnight bag tomorrow and stay to make up for tonight. I'll even bring dinner again, if you want. Or maybe I'll make something." She slid her bag over her shoulder and looked at him again.

He dug his hands into his pockets and exhaled long through his nose while he looked in her general direction. "I'm sure I'll survive somehow. It's getting late; I might turn in early."

She chuckled and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before she moved to go. As she made it to the door she said, "I'm sure Noin and you will get along just fine."

"Don't remind me."

Her laughter echoed all the way out the door and into the night. She still had a smile on her face even as she made her way down the path and back towards Konoha. It was almost eleven and she had just enough time to make it to Sasuke's if she went straight there.

The roads were darker out here than right in the main part of the village—not that it was _far_ from the main part per say. But, things did get considerably brighter as she got closer to the less wooded areas. At this time of night everything was dead with the exception of the bar district, among a few other places.

She stifled a yawn as she came into her neighborhood—Sasuke, Naruto, Kakashi, and Sai's as well. She found it humorous that shinobi seemed to congregate in one living area. Maybe it made them feel more normal to be around people who understood them and their trade.

Sasuke's small place was just a block or two from her own. So, by the time she reached his door it was a good two or three minutes before her ETA.

She reached up to knock on his door but stopped when it opened, revealing to her the third semi-stoic member of her team.

He gave her an odd look. "I can sense your chakra approaching, Sakura." As if she needed a explanation.

"Right," she replied with a smile.

He stepped back and turned away from door, walking inside. She followed behind him and shut the door behind her.

As far as placement went, his apartment was almost identical to hers. But his kitchen was set to the right and completely open accept for an island. He also preferred to have traditional table with cushions for seating. And, it was far cleaner than hers; not that she would ever be shocked—Sasuke and OCD seemed to go hand in hand with the stick that had previously seemed to be stuck up his ass.

"Thirsty?" he asked.

"Warm green tea would be nice," she answered as she joined him at the table and set her bag next to her. Her eyes dropped to the pot on the table and the two small cups. She raised a brow at him as he began to pour. "Prepared, I see."

"It's not hard to remember what you like."

She took her cup with a smile and sipped from it. "Thank you."

He nodded. "You wanted to talk about something?"

She sighed and looked down at her cup as she set it carefully on the table. Her hands rested there. "Right to point, huh?"

"We've known each other a long time, Sakura. I don't really see the reason in easing into whatever it is you have to say to me with a bunch of useless BS about the weather and work." Coal orbs settled on her, but not harshly.

"True." She exhaled slowly and met his gaze. "What if…" she started, hesitating, "..what if I told you I'd found a way to fix your brother's blindness… The Mangekyo?

"Without killing anyone."

For the first time in her life she watched as genuine shock flashed across Sasuke's features, and not because of fear or anger. He didn't say anything to her for a moment; just stared like someone had sucker punched him in the gut and he hadn't reacted yet.

Eventually, he blinked once—more than likely out of necessity. And then his face softened, his eyes narrowed curiously, and his lips parted only slightly as if he were about to say something, but, he wasn't quite sure what yet.

So she went on.

"I've been running some tests on Itachi. I'm not sure if you're aware, but, he's always been—."

"Ill," he finished for her.

She nodded. "Yes. It took me a while, but I eventually figured out what your brother has is a rare birth defect that causes his chakra walls to become weakened. Too keep it simple: chakra does damage to inside of your brother's body when used more than just regularly

"I can _fix_ that. The surgery is a little complicated, but not impossible." She kept her eyes locked on his. "In the midst of this, I've been researching the Sharingan based off what data I had from you, Kakashi, and Itachi.

"I can cure his blindness, Sasuke," she whispered. "But, it won't be permanent if he uses the Sharingan, not unless you agree to …trade eyes with your brother, to put it in simply.

"Not only would it help him, but, it would make your own Mangekyo permanent. You'd never have to worry about going blind yourself one day." She couldn't keep the hope out of her voice; not just for Sasuke and Itachi, but it was an amazing breakthrough regardless.

"Do you know what this means? Not just for you and Itachi, but for future generations of the Uchiha in Konoha? It means you can have a family one day without fear of your children killing each other for the Mangekyo. One surgery and it's over."

She really had nothing else to say after that; it would be rambling. But, that didn't stop her from biting her cheek and holding the rest in. The silence that echoed afterward made her want to fill that void with something. It didn't help that this was something she'd felt fairly nervous about telling him about anyway.

"Sakura…" He looked away, pulled his hands from the table and into his lap. "When you said you wanted to talk…" He swallowed. "I assumed you meant about _us_."

When his eyes locked on her again she stilled. Nervousness evaporated and was replaced by confusion, but most importantly fear; not for herself, but him.

She swallowed; her eyes softened and she frowned. It wasn't like Sasuke to be so honest. It was… weird. Different.

"When we broke it off…"

"Sasuke," she interrupted. "We just… we're better friends. We always have been. I just… I don't feel that way about you. I'm not sure I ever did. I think… more than anything else… I was in love with an ideal rather than you.

"We were together, what? Two months. You were never happy," she whispered. "You deserve someone who can make you happy. I can't do that…"

He closed his eyes, turned his head down and flexed his jaw as if upset. "… I'm not sure I know what that means."

And right before her eyes, he became that little boy she wanted to help and care for so _badly_ all over again.

"I've spent my whole life hating everything. And even now, when I'm at a place where things are supposed to be good for me, I don't really know what it means or how I'm supposed to feel. You were the only thing that made sense when I came back… and then…"

She reached out and touched his arm. "Sasuke… I'm not that girl anymore. And I'm _happy_ I'm not that naive anymore.

"You shouldn't settle for me when you can have something better. It's not fair to either of us."

"Does he make you happy?"

She was too startled to respond.

He looked at her then. "My brother."

She couldn't really say anything. How was it everyone seemed to know what was going on in her private life so well? It made no sense, unless there was some sort of rumor going around.

She sighed.

"He deserves to be happy, Sakura. More than me…" his voice was almost painful, filled with a thousand unspoken emotions she couldn't begin to unravel. "I suppose… if I have to give you up to anyone, it might as well be him."

"Sasuke—."

"I'll do the surgery. Just… I need some time."

She wanted to do something, anything to comfort him. This wasn't at all what she expected when she came in tonight. But, there it was. Somehow, mechanically, she stood up and grabbed her things; somehow, she made it across the room to his door. She stopped as she touched the knob.

"Don't hate him on my behalf—please," she said as she faced the door.

His laugh was bittersweet. "It's hard to hate a man for taking the woman you love when he gave up everything for you."

She wanted to say he was wrong, he didn't love her, that he just hadn't found what she had. She wanted to tell him he would. Instead, she just walked out.

**AN :: **And that took a while, don't cha think? Ok, so, this chapter was a little… boring. It felt boring to me. But, it was integral to show Sasuke at the start and to show some concern on Kakashi's part. So much of this story has been about her and Itachi that in order to move it along I needed to showcase some other characters.

I wasn't really sure about Sasuke's reaction. I thought maybe it might be humorous at one point, but scratched that idea. I think it's more important to work it this way, as I did when starting to craft this fiction.

And for those of you who don't know, I'm working on an original fiction n wattpad[dot]com. It's called the Chronicles of Rose Red. Look it up on the site. I'll be posting a ink to it on my profile soon. Any and all input is appreciated, especially if you enjoy my writing. The third chapter for it should be up very soon.

—**Blade**e


	9. Chapter Nine

.

**Nine|**Neuf

* * *

There was a hustle of life in the street; vendors, shoppers, children, shinobi going and coming. It was a clear day, as it had been for days on end before. Although, there was a slight nipping chill in the air; it was in the breeze now and then, indicating fall was slowly approaching.

It swept by then, upsetting the paper sign flaps hanging from Ichiraku Ramen and ruffling the sole two occupants' hair and clothes.

Chopsticks twirled betwixt Sasuke's fingers as he gathered some noodles onto them; he stuffed the bundle into his mouth, biting off the excess and then chewing. Next to him, he could hear Naruto slurping; he was already on his second bowl.

There were just some things that never really changed.

He glanced at his noisy friend before going back to his meal, staring at its contents.

"Man, what's up with you today? You're more quiet than usual," Naruto garbled between bites.

"Nothing," he muttered, forcing himself to stir. His chopstick scrapped the bottom.

"You know there's no point in lying to me, bastard. I can sense it."

He had a point; one he'd conveniently forgotten about. Since obtaining sage mode and perfecting it over the years Naruto had reached a point where—if he were actually paying attention—he could naturally tell certain truths from people. He wasn't much different from Kakashi or Kiba and their nose; but, that didn't make it any less annoying.

"And if I am? Take it as my way of saying I don't want to talk about it."

Naruto made a noise he couldn't really figure out. "You'd _feel_ better if you talked about it."

"What would make me feel better is for you to shut up, dead last." He took another bite of his noodles finally, if for nothing else than to occupy his mouth so he wouldn't have to speak. He wasn't even really sure he was hungry anymore.

"Is this about Sakura coming over to your place late last night?"

"_Naruto_…" his voice came out low and warningly. How had he found out anyway?

"What?" he replied, looking at him with a blank expression. "I was on my way home around eleven when I saw her go up to your door and go in." He blinked. "Did something happen? You guys aren't fighting again are you…?"

Sasuke's only response was a narrowed look before going back to his meal.

"Wait…" he trailed off as he frowned. "…Are you guys back together or something?"

This time Sasuke slammed his fists on the counter, in the process the counter shook and bowls bounced just barely. "Naruto," he snapped, "leave it alone."

His blonde friend was still blinking at him owlishly. "You're not one of those guys who get's bitchy _after_ sex, are you?"

And…. that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Sasuke placed several ryo on the counter and slid out of his stool. He slipped out of the shop as Naruto cried out for him to wait up. He ignored the loud mouth and stuffed his hands in his pockets; at the same time, he did his best to find a route that would get him off his trail—at the very least—for five minutes.

This wasn't the kind of thing you talked to Naruto about. And quite frankly, he didn't want to talk to anyone about it. The one person he could have was the person he couldn't talk to.

She'd been the one good thing when he came back; something unexpected and good that he could hold on to. Things had been good for a long while between them; however, the closer Sasuke tried to get to her the father she felt from him. Some part of him realized maybe there were just things she'd seen or experienced he had, or maybe didn't see with the same eyes. It was disconcerting and he'd found himself walking away from her.

But then time went by; in the end it just seemed more painful without her than with her, emotional distance or not. It was something he could overcome—they both could. And that's what he'd been hoping last night… they could start fresh.

There was… this part of him that wondered if something more was going on between his brother and her; he'd been suspicious the day he'd seen her with him on the street. Then there were numerous other days as well when he caught sight of them and neither had any idea he was watching.

Still, he'd told himself, Sakura was just _kind_. He couldn't speak for Itachi, not when there were so many years between them. He didn't have the faintest what type of woman would interest his brother.

Sasuke stopped and let his back fall against a brick alleyway wall. Shadows descended around him and he closed his eyes, exhaling.

"You know, you're making it hard to focus with all that sighing."

Sasuke looked up, narrowing his eyes slightly as the figure perched on a stack of old crates; it was elevated just high enough that he wouldn't have seen him coming in.

"Kakashi…" he murmured mutely.

The silver-haired Jounin raised a brow as he glanced up from his book.

Sasuke hesitated a moment—smiled—and then said, "Can I talk to you?"

…

It was a bright day; warm. He could tell because of heat brushing over where is his skin was bare. What breeze was present cooled him at the same time; thus, the combination left him feeling relaxed. Not too hot and not too cool.

Hair fell in his eyes, brushing his cheeks and nose ever so slightly; he didn't really mind however. It's not like the dark strands would block his vision. Although, when he did choose to use the technique to measure his location… well, it did become a little obstructive image-wise.

"It's nice out today."

"It is," he agreed with Noin.

"Were we going any place particular?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure yet, honestly." He was kind of wandering. The walking was good for him though; sitting around all day in a semi-lit house wasn't beneficial for building muscle. It was also good after his morning workout as a way of warming down his body.

"You know, it's nearly lunch. Maybe we should stop somewhere and eat."

He was a little inclined to agree. But the weather was too nice to sit inside anywhere.

He dug his hands into his pant pockets and quietly activated the ability again, reaching much farther than he generally tested. His range was getting wider now, he noted with some satisfaction. Coupled with the way he was gradually building up his chakra pool again, he could use it a lot more often.

"How does ramen sound to you?" he offered.

He could imagine her nose wrinkling up as she looked up at him. "I guess. What am I supposed to eat, mutt?"

"I'm sure they've got some meat on hand; it's a ramen shop."

"We'll see. If not, you can take me somewhere after."

He wouldn't complain about her being hospitable today; especially when Noin had a tendency to be bitchy most mornings and early afternoons. He could only surmise her former partner worked a lot of night missions.

"You'd _feel_ better if you talked about it," he heard a voice say; one that distinctly sounded like… Naruto. Yes.

"What would make me feel better is for you to shut up, dead last."

Ah… Sasuke. Maybe going to the ramen shop wasn't such a good idea. He forgot that Naruto tended to eat there all the time; with him usually came Sasuke.

He opened his mouth to tell Noin they'd have to go somewhere else.

"Is this about Sakura coming over to your place late last night?"

…and stilled.

"Itachi?" Noin whispered, her voice curious and a little worried.

"_Naruto_…" he heard his brother say next, attention rapt as he just listened and nothing more.

"What? ….I was on my way home around eleven when I saw her go up to your door and go in. Did something happen? You guys aren't fighting again are you…?" There was silence and his brother didn't say anything. "Wait… …Are you guys back together or something?"

There was a slam and some rattling… glass? "Naruto," he heard him snap, "leave it alone."

A distinct pause came after that, and then, "You're not one of those guys who get's bitchy _after_ sex, are you?"

This was when Itachi came back to his senses; he could feel Sasuke's chakra flare loudly as he got up. Part of that movement he heard in just enough time to dip into a small alley between the ramen shop and another. His listened as his brother's footsteps faded in the other direction. Not long after Naruto was shouting and following in much the same way. But, by then Sasuke had shrouded his chakra so that not even Itachi could feel him anymore.

"Itachi?" he heard Noin ask him again, this time sounding much more concerned.

He didn't answer her though; he barely heard her. Somewhere… in his chest there was this… burning. He kept hearing Naruto's words over and over again in his mind as he leaned back into the wooden frame of the ramen shop behind him.

By nature, Itachi was a logical-minded individual. He tackled everything with a mathematical and calculated efficiency. That wasn't to say emotions were never apart of that process; however, that was other people and this was _him_. He was never involved in the emotional equation that he used to systematically figure people out; he was the outsider, the one working the problem as he assessed the situation and figured people out. When you were in the equation… well, there was a certain level of bias and he just couldn't process it very well. Just like that night he and Sakura…

He closed his eyes and covered his face with a sprawled hand; fingers strung through his bangs. He only then realized he was just barely bordering on hyperventilating; which—in truth—was ridiculous.

What the hell was wrong with him?

"Itachi…?" he barely heard Noin's voice again.

"I'm alright," he whispered, lying. "Just… I need a moment to think."

She frowned, but said nothing as she stared up at him.

Had… had Sakura slept with Sasuke?

He didn't want to think of it. Jealousy was _not_ an emotion he was well acquainted with. If this is what it felt like then he really wanted no part of it.

Had she though…? It sure sounded like she had. Why else would she go see his brother that late at night? Why didn't she tell him she was going to see Sasuke last night? It's not like she needed to hide such a thing. Unless…

…Why hadn't she told him?

He swallowed.

In his general experience, especially with Sakura, shinobi rarely—if ever—did something without a real purpose. And keeping information from someone was one of those things.

Noin sighed. "Let's just go home. We can eat there. Alright?"

"…Yeah," he agreed as he placed a hand on her neck and let her lead him out of the alley and back in that direction.

Why hadn't she told him where she was going?

This question repeated itself several times over as Noin took him home.

_Why?_

…

"What a day," Sakura murmured as she wiped sweat from her brow. The pack on her shoulder was readjusted; the weight of it wasn't too bad, but she didn't want to use chakra to assist.

A smile ghosted her features.

No, she wouldn't want to; not when Tsunade had drilled within her the importance of always having chakra on hand. One never knew when she would be needed. She could just hear her voice now, warning her to not use it for such a trifle matter.

But damnit, that strap was biting into her skin.

Ah well.

At least it wasn't sweltering out; she only felt the effects because of the sun directly over head. There weren't many trees along the dirt path to Itachi's house.

_Itachi…_

She sighed and shut her eyes briefly. She still needed to talk to him. Tsunade had asked her about it this morning when she'd stopped by the report in on how he was doing. At least she'd gotten around to speaking with Sasuke about it. The blonde was a little surprised she'd gotten a yes out of him.

This has prompted Sakura to ask Tsunade how both Kakashi and Sasuke knew there was… something more going on between her and her patient. She'd looked right at Sakura and told her, _'Are you really so surprised? Sasuke's very astute and he spends a lot of time with you. It would be odd if he didn't notice _something_. As for Kakashi… well, you could say he shares guardianship of Itachi with me. I needed someone besides Shizune to talk to about it whom I knew understood him and I could bounce ideas off of for his recovery._

'_So, if course I told him about what I thought was going on between you two.'_

She'd resisted the urge to grumble. But, at least Sakura knew there wasn't a rumor going on. She'd have Ino to blame if that were true.

As she stepped through the broken little gate to Itachi's lawn she came back to her original dilemma. She still needed to tell Itachi about the surgery; because honestly, the sooner it was done—the better.

She took a deep breath as she opened the door, shut it behind her, and slid off her sandals.

"Itachi?" She set her bag down on the kitchen counter, blinking once or twice as she looked around. She then sought him out with her chakra; however, just as she turned around he was right there, coming down the staircase.

She smiled. "Afternoon." But then… there was nothing. She frowned when he didn't smile back, didn't crack a sarcastic remark, didn't say anything to her. He just stopped, looked in her direction, and then walked past her to the table to sit down.

Her gaze followed him, watching him carefully.

A moment passed before she picked up her bag and went to the kitchen to unload groceries.

_What was that about?_

She decided to test the waters a little. Maybe he hadn't heard her? Doubtful. "Did you sleep good last night?"

Nothing.

She reached into the bag and set a few bottles of juice down. Some fruit, bread, and frozen dinners followed shortly after.

"Have you eaten anything this morning?" Was he not feeling well?

"….Yes," he said—finally.

"And lunch?"

"No," he muttered, his back still facing her.

"Well, it's almost two, but I'll make you a late lunch."

"No thank you."

She found herself blinking again as she started at the back of his head. Her eyes were scrutinizing and eventually narrowed as she stood there, evaluating him. There _was_ something wrong with him. He hadn't been so put off by anybody since… She crossed her arms over her chest.

Maybe he was sick.

She walked the distance from the kitchen to the open dining room and moved to place a hand on his forehead. Shock erupted within her, stilling her, as he slapped her hand away. It wasn't that hard, but the action and the sound echoed, pronouncing itself to her.

She hesitated and stared at him.

Her lips were slightly parted; her brow was knit; her eyes were focused on his unseeing depths. They stared ahead as he moved to rest his chin under his interlaced fingers; his elbows rested on the table.

Somehow, she managed to pull herself together; she found her voice. "What's the matter with you?" she said, voice serious but not loud.

"Nothing."

"Then why won't you let me run a check up on you?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but then quickly snapped it shut.

She stood there for a while, perhaps a full minute. The whole while he said nothing. She sighed and looked away from him. "You need to eat. I'm going to fix your something. Then we'll try again." With that, she moved back into the kitchen and went to work. Hopefully, whatever his problem was would be done with by then.

For the entire half an hour she cooked he said nothing; he barely moved. She really didn't know what to make of it. He didn't have a fever from what she could tell when she had touched him. He didn't _look_ sick. He wasn't coughing and he didn't appear in pain.

So what then?

Was he pissed off?

She ran a hand through her unbound strands a she watched the stir fry sizzle in the pan. She gave it one more scrape before pilling it onto a plate. She grabbed the glass of juice she'd made for him and walked the distance to where he was sitting. Both items were placed in front him as usual.

She took a seat where she always sat to his right and watched him. Her own drink was there already, so she took it in her hand sipped from it. She sat there for what seemed like ten minutes, waiting for him to say something, eat, or do something. He did nothing however.

It's like they were back to page one and she didn't understand at all. Had she done something wrong? The last time they'd spoken he'd said he missed her; he'd kissed her.

"Are you going to eat?" she asked.

He closed his eyes and turned his head to the left slightly.

"You should—."

"Leave me be, Sakura," he muttered.

She sighed, growing frustrated. "Seeing as how it's my job to make sure you take of yourself, I can't really do that." She frowned. "Are we going to do what we use to do?"

"I don't know," he said, still not really facing her. "Are you going to keep bugging me to eat?"

"Yes."

She watched as his jaw visibly flexed.

"Itachi—."

The loud crash interrupted her. Glass shattered against the wall as rice, peppers, and slivers of meat stuck and fell to the floor. She watched it for a while, almost uncertain if it was just her imagination or if Itachi had actually _thrown_ his plate.

"There, no need to bother me anymore."

"… Are you… _kidding_ me?" she snapped, standing immediately. "What the hell has gotten into you?" she said next, her voice well beyond just yelling as she slammed a hand onto the table.

He didn't reply and it took everything in her to _not_ turn the table over to get his attention. _She_ wanted to throw things; but, somehow, she reigned in her temper. Seething, she found the back door, went outside, and slammed it shut. The action rattled the house.

He didn't jump as the crack bounced off in the interior. He registered a hairline break in the door near the handle. Normally, it would have bothered; now, it just irritated him.

"Kami, is _this_ what you acted like before Sakura?"

Itachi ignored Noin completely; he shut his eyes to emphasize that he did _not_ want her opinion—not right now.

"You're jealous, you know that, right?"

"I am not." His response was tightlipped. Well, so much for ignoring her. Then again, it was hard to ignore someone who was bleeding her own feelings into your chakra.

She snorted. "I'm old enough to _know_ what jealousy is, Uchiha. Maybe you aren't though. Maybe you've never had to deal with it. But, that's what it is; you are.

"You're jealous of the brat brother of yours because you seem to think Sakura slept with him."

"Shut up, Noin," he bit off.

"What I want to know is if makes it harder that it's your brother, or easier. After all, you've given up so much for Sasuke already. What's one more thing to add to the pile? You almost died for him, were labeled a traitor for him… now you might even be willing to give Sakura to him.

"Will you? I think—."

"I'm not giving her up!"

Noin didn't say anything; she smiled in that way only a dog can smile.

"…" He shut his eyes again, pulling his death glare away from her. "…Alright… maybe I'm a little jealous."

"That's something at least," she muttered, moving closer to him. "You idiot, did you ever think in all your rage, to talk to her? To ask her why in the hell she was at his place last night?"

He sighed. "Maybe…"

"You know, love makes _you_—specifically—do the stupidest things. And do you know why?"

"Noin…"

"No, I'm going to tell you because you _need_ to hear it. Love," she started again, "makes _you_ do stupid things because you've locked your damn self up for so long. You've avoid your brother; you avoided feeling anything growing up because of your idiot father and his need for vengeance; and now—as an adult—you don't know how to handle being in love with a woman.

"You could tell me in a million ways how to solve someone else's relationship because you know people so damn well; you though? Forget it. You're a mess, Itachi.

"You're head over heels for that girl and you can't handle the idea of Sasuke taking one more thing, even if you gave everything else up willingly."

With that, she turned to walk away and towards the stairs; he listened to paws pattering on the wood until he couldn't hear her anymore. He drew his hands through his hair along the sides of his head; the action loosened the hold his hair tie had on his strands.

Jealousy…

Noin had effectively burned the anger right out of him; and she did so just by making him see his feelings for what they were.

He was afraid; he hated admitting that. He was afraid of losing Sakura. He couldn't have fathomed being jealous; he never had been before. So, he'd pushed the idea down; it'd reared its ugly head in a way he couldn't control. However, had he been willing to admit he was, he might have analyzed his own feelings better and _talked _to her instead of being an ass.

Then again, maybe he'd also been afraid of her confirming his fear. How was it possible that ignorance was more appealing to him?

He sighed and smiled bitterly.

Noin was right. Love made him an idiot. A stupid, misguided, vulnerable idiot.

Suddenly the back door opened and he jerked—literally.

"I'm leaving," he heard her say with what sounded like tight lips. He could hear her packing up and cleaning the kitchen behind him all of a sudden. Dishes clanked and cabinet doors slammed with resounding clarity. "Maybe when I come back you'll be in a better mood. Maybe you'll even want to talk about it," she went on.

He stood up.

"I'm going to leave that mess on the floor though. Actually, you can clean it up."

He felt her brush past him in the kitchen as he stopped next to the sink. Another dish clattered and knew where she was. He reached out to stop her, grabbing onto the edge of her shirt.

She moved again and he tugged her to a stop. "Sakura…"

"Will you—!"

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She stilled and he knew he had her attention.

He directed his unseeing gaze downward and to the side, resisting the urge to sigh. "Look… earlier today I overheard Sasuke and Naruto talking. There were some things… said. I know you went over to Sasuke's late last night and…" He did sighed then. "You didn't tell me. It's only natural you wouldn't keep it from me. I assumed you…" he trailed off. "Well, it didn't help that Naruto suggested you might have done…"

He could feel her confusion.

"Naruto saw you stopping by Sasuke's last night and he drew his own conclusions."

"Oh…"

"Yeah."

Sakura frowned at him; the anger washed away from her almost immediately. "So you thought…"

"Yes."

"You were jealous."

He sighed again, met her gaze as best as he imagined he could and nodded.

She smiled. "Well, I didn't."

"Then why did you go over there so late?" He realized it was the jealously talking again, but he had to know.

It was her turn to sigh. She set the dish down she'd been holding. It clattered in the sink lightly. "I needed to talk to Sasuke about something… something delicate."

He raised a brow at her.

She frowned again. "It has to do with you and Sasuke. I needed to speak with him first; I didn't want to get your hopes up."

"About?"

She bit her lower lip. "About…" she trailed off, gaining her strength. "Itachi… I figured out how to cure your breathing problem, and… I believe I can give you your sight back.

"Completely.

"But," she went on hurriedly, as she'd done with Sasuke, "I needed Sasuke's consent first because I'll be performing a transplant."

His eyes narrowed and it was his turn to still at the information he was trying to process. "You can't—."

"I _can_," she replied. "I can repair the birth defect that causes you to cough blood; I can reconstruct your eyes; and I can perform a transplant between you and Sasuke to ensure he never loses his sight and you regain your own.

"To the point that, if you wanted to, you could go back on full duty."

He was…_stunned_, to put it mildly.

"But, I wasn't sure how you would react. And I didn't want to get your hopes up if Sasuke refused. So, I had to talk to him first and—."

"Sasuke agreed to this?"

"He did…"

Itachi swallowed. "I'll be able to see again…"

"Yes," she said, a smile in her voice.

He stepped forward and touched her face; his thumbs rolled down her cheeks.

Sakura shut her eyes.

"Your face… I'll be able to see…"

"Yes," she whispered as she took his wrists in her hands. She shut her eyes again as his forehead dropped to hers.

"God I'm an idiot," he said next.

She chuckled. "It's alright. You're forgiven. But just so you know… I'm not cleaning this up."

He smiled.

* * *

**AN :: **Blah, blah… I've been busy, normal school stuff… blah, blah, blah. I'm not going to bore you with the details…blah.

Anyway, chapter is up now -smiles-. Hope your happy and the like. Should be a new chapter out for Rose Red on wattpad in a week or two if I play my cards right. However, finals are around the corner, so don't hold your breath.

If you want up to day information about my writing, fanfic and original works, please look me up on facebook under my pen name: Kit Roe.

Thanks.

—**Blade**


	10. Chapter Ten

.

**Dix|**Ten

Emerald eyes narrowed; they appeared crossed between glaring and deep thought, boring holes into the wooden barrier before her. She placed her hands on her hips; she frowned and shifted weight from one foot to the other. A moment passed; then she reached up and rapped on the door—again.

And then she waited—again.

Several more moments passed before she released a long, eye-closing, half growling, frustrated sigh. Her head turned down slightly and she found herself staring at the place where the concrete floor met the wall.

A week and a half had passed since she'd spoken to Sasuke. When he didn't show up to see her at all she decided he needed space; he said he did. And so she'd gone on training without him in the mornings and evenings. Naruto met with her here and there, but he seemed oblivious to it all, as usual. He noticed Sasuke's absence, but appeared to accept that the darker-haired male was just busy. To be fair, Sasuke did get that way from time to time and wandered in his own realm of lonely focus.

But, after a week she'd started looking for him. She came to his house and knocked on his door; she stopped by places he hung out at; she asked friends he spent time with from time to time. No one seemed to have an idea of where he was, or she found herself barely missing him; which, was so a-typical Sasuke.

She'd spent the week before she started looking for him prepping for the surgery with Tsunade and Shizune and a few other nurses and doctors. She had several meetings to get them ready for everything she needed, what they needed to do for her, what their roles were, and how the surgery was going to be performed. It was new and a little experimental; if it worked it could mean a lot of new things for shinobi medical nin not just in Konoha, but in other villages as well. In essence, without even realizing it, Sakura's research could become the pinnacle of her career. It wasn't her core reason; however, it was something she wouldn't scoff at for being remembered by.

But, damnit, where was he?

She didn't want to push him, but… She knew Itachi was itching to get started. And she couldn't blame him. It wasn't even like he said anything; he wasn't even asking when it would happen. She could just _tell_. He was so subtle about a lot of things, but Sakura was very sensitive to that. She always had been very empathetic.

She didn't want to make him wait any longer; however, she didn't want to push Sasuke either. The whole damned situation was so… delicate. She hated it.

She didn't realize she was digging her nails into her hips until a sharp pain hit her. With an irritated grumble she pulled the away and cross them over her chest.

Maybe if she camped outside of his—no, that was taking it a little too far. If she was going to do that she might as well just have Tsunade do a formal summoning to her office. Problem was, she really didn't want to involve her mentor anymore; not unless she really had to. Between her and Kakashi the whole thing had become a little too family for her liking.

So, with a huff, she turned away from her teammate's door and headed back the way she came and into the street.

It was already well past noon; breakfast had been forgone and lunch as close behind if she didn't eat something soon. And she really didn't want to be grumpy just because she was being stubborn.

"Sakura?"

The pinkette blinked and stopped midstride. Her hands were behind her head, clasped; now she found herself dropping them. "Hey," she murmured. "What are you doing?"

There was a little frown on Itachi's face as he stepped forward and closed the distance between them. "Taking a walk…" he said, trailing off slightly. "Maybe looking for you… are you alright?"

She hesitated as she met his cloudy eyes. Her lips parted, stayed that way, and then she sighed. "I'm frustrated. And hungry. I was on my way to get something to eat." Her head hung just then as she finished speaking.

"Did something happen?" another voice asked from behind Itachi.

Sakura looked over as Noin came to rub along Itachi's right leg. She was looking up at Sakura curiously.

"In way… yes," she replied. "Sasuke's... been avoiding me."

"Avoiding you?" Itachi asked.

She nodded and rubbed her brow; her eyes shut briefly. "I need to do something about it before I get an aneurism."

"Well…" Itachi began slowly, easily picking up on her mood. "Why don't we get lunch together and talk about it?" Without waiting for a reply, he took her arm and began to lead her as Noin went about leading him to their original destination for their own lunch.

Sakura didn't argue. "I didn't want to bother you with it, honestly. I would have told you before, but I guess I figured it wouldn't come down to me having to enlist off the clock ANBU to locate one Uchiha."

"That bad?"

"I am exaggerating a little," she grumbled. "I'm frustrated."

"And hungry," he added with a smile.

"It's just… it's been a long week and a half," she said while she exhaled at the same time.

"Why is he avoiding you?" Noin asked.

That was a question she hadn't wanted to answer for a while… But, she needed to. "Can I answer that once I've ordered some food?"

"I believe that was the idea," Itachi said as she they entered into a small restaurant.

"Two?" the hostess asked as she came forward.

"Yes, please."

"This way," she said with a smile. "You going to have your usual, Itachi-san?"

"Ah, yes."

Sakura raised a brow at him as they stopped at the booth and he barely fumbled for the seat. She took the other side. "You're usual?"

"Itachi-san eats here almost every day just recently. Sometimes for a snack or lunch," the waitress offered as she smiled at him. "Here's your menu," she told Sakura as she slid it to her. "Do you know what you want to drink…?"

"Juice, please," she said. "Whatever you have."

"Right away. Be back in five minutes." And then she was gone.

Sakura was looking at him oddly. "So… a regular here, huh?"

"Barely."

"I'm surprised you're eating out at all…"

"You're technique helped him in that regard," Noin answered from where she lay on the floor next to the booth.

"In a manner of speaking… it does," he agreed. "But, it also helps that I don't eat messy foods." He reached down and ruffled her between her ears.

Sakura lowered her menu to smile at that. Despite her bad morning, it gave her a small sense of joy to know he was gaining much more freedom with it, and with Noin. "That's good."

"Have you decided yet?" the waitress asked as she placed their drinks on the table.

"Yes, I have," she murmured, touching her lips and skimming the menu items. "The number three special looks especially good."

"Number three, got it." She took the menu. "Be back with that in about fifteen or twenty minutes."

"I'm not in a hurry, so that's fine," Sakura replied before the girl wandered off.

"So…" Itachi started, "Do you want to wait to eat?"

Sakura shook her head. "No… really it's a little of a long story. So, by the time the food comes we'll probably still be talking about it." She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know how I spoke with Sasuke a week ago about the surgery?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't exactly… tell you everything that happened. And to be fair, I didn't think it would be a big deal… but, I guess it is if he's avoiding me."

"What happened, Sakura?"

She dropped her forearms on the table and looked a little to the side before meeting his unseeing gaze. "I'd spoken to him earlier that day about meeting with him after a sparring match. I said I'd come by around eleven—after I left your place. But, when I got there and explained the procedure…" she trailed off and frowned. "Well, Sasuke assumed I wanted to talk to him about getting back together…"

"Ah…"

Sakura nodded as she gauged his reaction; which, didn't seem very readable. "I told him that we just didn't work; I'm not the same person anymore. But," she said softly next, "it didn't take much for him to figure out we were together.

"And how did he react?"

She was frowning. "Well, he—."

"Here ya go, guys," their waitress piped in as she set their food down. "Enjoy. Anything else?"

"Thank you, but I think I'm good," Sakura said.

"Same."

"Alright then, I'll check back in about twenty with you guys." With a smile she was gone again.

Sakura sighed and moved to dig into her sandwich. After she chewed she realized he was still waiting for a reply. "Well," she mumbled, swallowing the last of her first bite, "Not good… but not bad."

"Meaning?"

She took a sip of her drink. Orange juice—awesome. "He wasn't happy about losing me, I guess. But, he seemed ok with it because it was you. Look," she started, changing the subject a little, "The problem is he said he needed space and time to adjust—which I was fine with. For a week. But, I'd like to start the surgery soon. The thing is, I could go ahead and do what I need to do to repair your lungs, stomach, chakra pathways, etcetera. But, I wanted to do the eye transplant while you're still knocked out. Two birds with one stone; it'd be a lot less stress on your body, based on my calculations, and well… just my personal medical opinion.

"I need Sasuke for that. That's really where the problem is. And I could just have Tsunade summon him, but she already knows a lot about my situation with you. I just…" she sighed out as she looked down, feeling a little defeated. "I _don't_ want to involve Tsunade anymore in my private life than she already is. I'm not afraid for people to know about us; I'm—."

"I understand," Itachi interrupted, one hand raised. "Why don't you let me talk to him?"

Sakura blinked. "Not that mind, but, I didn't think you… well, _wanted_ to yet."

It was his turn to frown, sigh, and then narrow his eyes. "I need to. I can't keep avoiding him. And it would be better to do this before the operation. We need to clear the air."

"I agree. Completely. But, are you sure you can find him?"

"I'm fairly certain."

"Without making a ruckus?"

"_Yes._"

"Then by all means. I think you should. I don't think there's much else I can say to him that I already haven't." She looked at him seriously, contemplatively. "I don't think what needs to be said can really come from me."

"Neither do I," he replied, smiling softly. "We'll finish lunch and I'll see what I can do."

…

It was an hour later that Itachi left Sakura, going a different direction entirely. He'd considered using the technique to find Sasuke… but he didn't think he'd need to. Itachi had a fairly good idea about where his brother was already without needing to use any special jutsu or Noin's nose for assistance.

"Where are we off to?" she asked, needing to know so she could direct him with their invisible chakra tether.

"Where are we now? Street?"

She told him.

"Hum… I don't think I'll need you to direct me. But, I might need to ask you where we are now and then."

"If you say so."

And so they continued on, making a turn once or twice. Before long, Noin found herself confused.

"I don't think I've been to this part of the village before…"

"I didn't think you would have," he replied cryptically.

The large dog stopped and looked up at the archway, the faded paint, and the worn concrete path half covered in sand. She looked over at him as he walked past her and towards the opening. "You think he's here?"

"It's the last place Sakura would look for him. And it's quiet. I wouldn't be surprised if he was staying here."

"Morbid."

"A little," he agreed as he continued on, ignoring the penetrating feeling that couldn't help but surround him.

"Do you want me to be around for this… chat?" she asked beside him.

"Probably not." He stopped and turned. There was a shift in the wind and it hit his face, brushing loose strands across his eyes and nose. He executed the technique and watched as the world became visible to him—freeze framed.

He smiled. "You can go, Noin."

"Find him?" she asked softly.

"I did."

"I'll meet you at the front of the compound. Don't be too long or I'll worry."

He chuckled. "I know." And then her presence was gone, chakra signature fading. He released a sigh and turned his face back to the house—his once home. He could still see the image in his mind; the tattered curtains fluttering in the breeze that ran through the house, the chipping paint on parts of the wooden structure, the slightly overgrown places of the yard where Genin didn't get to in their harried pace to get such a low level mission done.

He closed his eyes; the action alone allowed him to shut the world out in a way.

He still wasn't wholly sure what to say; the words were there… but… it wondered if it would matter at all.

Nothing in life worth doing was ever really easy, he'd been told once.

He found himself walking around the side and along the almost overgrown path that once been worn by many footsteps across it. Parts of him could still hear those voices, those sounds, the laughter, the people. Being here made it feel… realer.

He found himself stopped and taking in a deep breath as he placed a hand on the side of the house. His grip tightened into it.

Blood… chimes… screams. Here, there, and beyond.

How he hated the flashbacks. One sound could set it off; it was hard to keep reality in place. But, he continued to remind himself that he wasn't that man anymore; he never was.

He exhaled slowly, pushing it all away. He counted back from ten, slowly. And then he opened his eyes, forcing himself to face it—even if he couldn't see it. He had to talk to Sasuke.

He ran his hand along the wall, no, railing of the wraparound porch until it came to an end. His hand fell to his side as he stepped into the back yard. Leaves crunched under him and he found himself using the technique again just to regain his surroundings.

A hundred or so feet from where he stood his brother sat on the edge of a once well used dock that stood and stared over a rather large pond. He could hear the buzz of insects and the plop of something hitting the water. He found himself stopping as he stepped onto the first few planks; he found himself standing there, listening to his brother's slow breath. He had to know he was there; he probably knew long before he'd reached the house.

"I'm surprised you came," he heard him say. Another plop in the water.

He was again struck with not really knowing what to say. It felt like an eternity before he managed force himself to speak calmly and fluidly. "Sometimes we all have to face something we'd rather not," he began quietly.

"Me or the compound?"

"The compound. Never you."

And then he heard him sigh.

"We need to talk," Itachi said as he stepped forward, eventually coming close enough to stand right next to him.

"So, was this Sakura's idea?"

"Mine."

"Hm," he mumbled; it almost sounded like a short and bitter half laugh.

"Are you mad at her or me, Sasuke?"

"Maybe a little of both, not that I want to be. That's probably why I don't want to see her yet. My anger is irrational. No one should have to deal with it but me. Not this kind."

Itachi wasn't surprised by that answer. But, he was curious. "Then why not leave when I came?"

"Hell if I know." Sasuke looked up at him. "Maybe because you never come looking for me." He looked back at the water and placed his hands on either side of him and leaned back slightly. "Why did you come?"

There was a short pause before he spoke. "Partly because of Sakura… but mostly because there are some things that need to be said between you and I. There are…" he started and trailed off as he tried to find the right words, "…Some things I need to explain to you. Things I've never had the nerve to approach you about because I guess I always assumed you would come to me when you were ready."

"Itachi, you don't need to—."

"I do," he interrupted before he found himself sitting down next to him. His sandaled feet barely touch the surface of the water; he placed his hands together—clasped—between his open thighs. "I'm sorry," he found himself saying. "Everything I did, I did for you and for Konoha. I never meant to hurt you the way I did; I felt as though I just didn't have a choice. I didn't think you would understand, even if I'd told you then. And the Uchiha wouldn't have listened. Our father wouldn't have."

"Itachi… I don't—."

"I loved you; I still do. That's why I didn't mind sacrificing who I was—everything—to make sure you had a life you could be proud of."

"Stop," Sasuke finally said, looking at him now through narrowed back orbs. "Do you really think I blame you for all of that? Don't you think if I did I would have left you for dead when we fought in the war?

"You're precious to me too, you idiot. That's why it's so hard for me to get over you and Sakura."

Itachi found himself silenced as he let the words sink in.

Sasuke slowly turned his gaze back to water, quieting. "Of course I miss mom and dad… Of course I hate that my family is gone… aunts, uncles, cousins… _children_ died that night. But, I don't _blame_ you for that. Denzou is the one to blame—not you and not the Third." He shook his head, upsetting bangs that fell to the side and half in his eyes. "We've learned from it. And I've made my own family from the ashes. You, Sakura, Naruto, Kakashi, and rookie nine. Even Team Gai.

"It's ok." He looked at him again. "I've let go of my hate, Itachi, because people believed in me. Even you." He placed a hand on his shoulder.

He let himself breathe and shut his eyes for a moment as the last of his brother's words washed over him.

"I also know what Sakura was trying to say to me… it's just… taken some time." He slowly dropped his hand. "I think I still don't really understand what it means to love someone, but I'll figure it out as I let go of her."

"I—."

"Don't apologize for that," Sasuke said preemptively. "Never apologize for loving Sakura. She deserves better."

Itachi sighed and then smiled. "I wasn't," he said next, "I was just going to say that you don't have to learn how." He looked over at him, or at least tried to. "You just do." And then, as he felt Sasuke turn to met his gaze, he lifted his hand and poked his forehead—smiling. "It tends to sneak up on you, otouto. Trust me."

Sasuke scowled almost immediately as he tried to push his hand away. And then he stilled, watching as Itachi smiled. And he realized… it had been many years since he'd seen that look.

He smiled back and shoved him. "You know, I'm big enough to hold my own now."

"Yes, I know."

He paused as he settled back to where he'd been before, staring out at the body of water and living in his own mind. Finally, he asked, quite softly, "Are you happy?"

"Very."

"…Me too."

…

"Are you ready?" he could hear her voice above him, smiling at him.

"Yes."

"Good," she said, "Because, you're not going to wake up for a while." There was laughter in her voice. "I'll take care of you though."

"I know. You always do."

* * *

**AN :: **You know, I realized as I looked back over my chapters that I reversed the French number and the English one. , Now I need to go back and fix that for (I think) seven, eight, and nine. -grumbles- Ah well.

Anyway, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter. Let me know what you think though. There's… maybe two more chapters left in this story. -smiles- Don't forget to like my page on facebook for updates on all my work: [forward slash]KitRoe

Thanks!

—**Blade **


	11. Chapter Eleven

.

**Onze|**Eleven

"…Sakura… Sakura… Sakura!"

She jerked, eyes flashing wide and bewildered; she inhaled sharply and one hand flew to her chest. Still, despite the abrupt yank into the world of awake, she was groggy as hell. Her back hurt and her neck was on fire.

"Awake?"

Emerald orbs looked up, blinking owlishly as they met amber-browns. "Y-yes… Tsunade-sama," the pinkette murmured just before she rubbed her eyes, grimacing. She heard a chuckle and a cup was thrust into her free hand.

"Here, drink this. And then go home. They'll be out for at least another twelve hours, if not more. You can be back then, alright? Eleven hours in surgery on two different men, help or not, is a big drain."

Sakura nodded mutely before she took a sip of the drink. Hospital coffee. There came a sigh as she watched her mentor walk away and down the hall. Then she got up, glanced at the surgery door she'd exited some time ago, and then left for some much needed food and rest.

It had to be around five am or so by the time she got home; maybe around five-thirty when she crawled into bed. When she woke up hours later it was to the smell of something good and a little racket going on in another part of her apartment. She was still groggy, but not nearly as bad off as she had been before. Thus, it didn't take much effort for her to get up, get changed, and meander into her main living space.

She smiled at Naruto, who was setting styrofoam boxes on the dining area table.

He grinned a looked a little sheepish, hand scratching the back of his head. "I didn't wake you up did I, Sakura-chan?"

She shook her head. "No, I was waking up anyway. This for me?" She gestured to one of the boxes closest to her.

He nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah! Got you a burger and fries! Tsunade baa-chan wanted to make sure you ate. Said you needed carbs…" He shrugged. "I got ramen. You're hungry, right?"

"Oh yeah, big time. Thanks." Without another word she sat down, opened her box, and dug in. It was greasy, but she didn't care. She needed it. Her mind and body felt like they were full of numb and cotton haze. Sleep had helped some, but food would definitely get her back to normal so she could go check on Itachi and Sasuke.

"So, how'd it go?" he asked between mangled bites of noodles.

"Long," she replied with a sigh and a slump of her shoulders. "I was on my feet for almost half of an entire day."

"Went good though, right? Sasuke's ok? Itachi?"

She nodded. "Yeah, they're good. I won't know the full details until they have some rest and wake up… but it should be fine." She shoved another fry in her mouth and chewed.

"You going there after?" He slurped the last of his noodles into his mouth and picked up the bowl, intent on drinking the broth.

Sakura watched him with some amusement. "Yeah, why?"

He downed it and set the bowl down with a clank on the table.

She watched with the same smile, her cheek on her fist as he licked his lips and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. _Same old Naruto…_

"I'll walk you. Wanna see the bastard anyway!"

She chuckled. "That's fine. Let me go brush my teeth and get my things and you can."

He made a whooping sound, as if it was some great mountain he'd overcome.

Sakura just rolled her eyes. Naruto got excited over the littlest things…

_Some things never really change._

…

The pinkette skimmed over a chart, checking to see what all they'd done for him that morning. Not too much… he hadn't even eaten yet. But, that was to be expected. Major eye surgery put a lot of pain around the face. She wasn't sure she'd have felt up to eating right away either.

Naruto was doing his best to be mildly quiet… which was somewhere at a normal level of speaking for the average person. It was good; Sasuke needed that after all that. But, he certainly wouldn't need anything of normal Naruto level.

She smiled as she flipped another page, listening as they chatted on. No, mostly while Naruto did and Sasuke grunted and commented here and there.

"Looks like it's all good. You're stable and my nurses are happy. All you need to do now is eat something in the next twenty-four hours and I'd say you're recovering nicely. Oh, and one of them told you not to take the bandages off without them for at least a month… right?"

Sasuke and Naruto's conversation stopped abruptly and Sasuke tilted his head the direction of her voice. "Right… but, she also said something about cutting that time in half…"

Sakura sighed and replaced the clipboard at the hook on the foot of his bed. She took a seat on the other side, across from Naruto. "This isn't totally new for us. We've done eye surgeries before… but never to this extent… never with something like the Sharingan.

"You can come by once a week once you're released and have someone like myself stimulate it with chakra healing when I'm not here. It will take some of the pain away and help with healing, but because this is so _new_ I can't promise anything.

"In fact, if you want my honest opinion, I'd prefer you to stay with your brother and me in his house so I can keep a close eye on both of you. But, that's up to you and him."

She wasn't going to push the issue, but it would make it easier for her. At the end of the day though, it wasn't about what was easier for her. She couldn't argue it would be a bad thing. They needed it—time together.

"This is going to suck," Naruto suddenly said, changing the subject when Sasuke didn't reply to her suggestion. "You not being able to see for a month or so? And you're gonna have to take it easy. No training…" He looked to be pouting.

Sakura chuckled and moved to stand. "It'll be fine. You don't have to stop completely. No one said you couldn't do minor stuff, like katas, meditation, or some weight training. Just don't overdo it." She gathered up her bag off the floor.

"You leaving, Sakura?" Naruto asked.

She nodded. "I have to check on Itachi." She looked over at Sasuke. "Think about what I said. Ok? You should be released tomorrow morning.

"Either way, I'll be here to take you home." She waved. "Bye, guys." She turned towards the door as Naruto waved back and said goodbye. Behind her, she could hear him chattering away again; the sound dimmed away as she entered the hallway and left, allowing for the other sounds of the hospital around her to overcrowd her hearing as white noise.

Her booted feet half thumped and half clicked against the tiled floor. Around her, nurses and orderlies were moving around and going from one room to another. It was an atmosphere that always gave her comfort; it was familiar and easy for her even when the whole word felt turned inside out. And man, even in the middle of her elements yesterday… it had. She'd worked on people before, some of them were friends in one sense or another. However, never before had she had to work on someone she… no one she was that close to before. Not even Naruto. And it hadn't been the first time either. This had been her second time putting Uchiha Itachi's insides back together. Last time had been more of a band-aide because she hadn't had enough info. But yesterday… that had taken all of her skill set to accomplish, preparation or not.

But, she'd done it. And hopefully in a few weeks… he'd be able to see again. Hopefully, Sasuke and his bother could use their eyes however they saw fit without the fear of ever going blind again.

She exhaled, closed her eyes, dropped her head slightly, and smiled. It would be worth it.

Booted feet stopped and she turned to the closed hospital door. The smile remained as she opened the door and slowly stepped in. She was quiet as she shut it behind her and stepped beyond the sheeted threshold. A hand reached up, gently pushing the white barrier aside. It glided against her fingers and her soft emerald orbs came to rest on his form.

The smile returned as she watched him sleep. His lips were just barely parted and his hair looked a little bed head ridden. The bandages they'd put around his eyes remained secure, or so they appeared from her vantage.

Still just as silent as before, she reached down and picked up his clipboard. She skimmed over it, checking to see what they'd made sure to cover with his post-surgery care. He, like Sasuke, hadn't eaten yet. But, that was given considering he hadn't been awake today yet.

She set it back down with a small sigh and looked up…

…just as he was sitting up.

"…Sakura?"

His voice was soft, hoarse, and not at all unlike Sasuke's had been when he'd first woken up—or so the nurses had told her.

"I'm here," she murmured in confirmation. "Just let me get you some water, alright?" He nodded and she reached for a cup and the pitcher on the nightstand next to the bed. As soon as she'd filled the cup halfway she handed it to him and sat down on the bed. "Slowly… alright?"

"Yeah…" he rasped before taking a small sip.

She was right there, waiting and anticipating anything as he took his time drinking from the cup. Eventually, he lowered it and exhaled.

"Better," he managed clearly.

"More?"

"Please."

She poured more and handed it back to him. This went on for two full glasses more before he finally handed the cup over and moved to lay back.

"Do you want me to adjust the bed for you? So you can sit up?"

"That would probably be better," he agreed, pressing his hands to either side of the bed to hold himself up.

Sakura came behind him and pressed the button the bed to lift it into a better angle. The motor made a noise for some time before she stopped and started placing pillows behind him for support. "There, that should do it. I—." She moved to step back from him, but stilled as he reached behind her neck and held her. A thrill danced down her spine as his fingers curled into her hair and his thumb rolled over her cheek. She watched quietly as he tilted his head towards her, as if looking at her. He pressed her closer and she let him, leaning while she placed a hand on the mattress to keep from falling.

She closed her eyes as he pressed her forehead onto his; he inhaled deeply and she smiled.

"No matter how well I see after this… I'll always know when you come into a room, even when I can't see you at all."

"Oh?"

He smiled softly; she could _feel_ it.

"Honeysuckle."

A warmth spread from the center of her chest and expanded… reaching and stopping only when it had extended to every possible point in her body. It tingled and danced around, making her feel… it was without words. How did he do that? How? Now one ever managed to make her feel…

She couldn't quite stop herself and she let herself sit down right there, as she let her nose drag softly next to his, as she let her lips brush just barely… a breath jumped between the two of them just before she pressed hers to his fully and opened.

It was fire, it wasn't molten, it was like fireworks, no… it was like a warm sun on a chilly morning… melting the frost on the grass and turning it into dripping dew. It was honey; sweet, warm, and sticky as it rolled over a hot bun. This… this euphoric thing between them just bloomed slowly; however, not like a single flower… like a few thousand that were all a part of the same plant. And with each new bloom a new facet was revealed to each of them, more fiery and effulgent than the last.

Finally, she broke away; not for air, but for sanity and control. Still, she couldn't help the gasp that passed between them. Nor could she stop the smile and the light chuckle as she took his hand in her two. "I'm fairly certain it's some kind of offense to fraternize with a patient while he's still in the hospital.

"And as your doctor, I can't really recommend it at this particular moment."

He was smirking at her. "How long till…?"

"About a month… perhaps longer. It just depends on how fast you heal. But, you've had a lot internal work done as well. So, that might drag the time out a little bit," she admitted as she rubbed her thumbs over the top of his hand.

"I'm breathing much better," he realized aloud, as if he forgot she'd worked on more than his eyes.

"You shouldn't have any trouble anymore."

He nodded and squeezed one of her hands. "When will I be able to go home?"

"Tomorrow morning, hopefully. I'll be here to take you and Sasuke."

"How is he?"

"Good. His usual self, if that means anything." She smiled again. "Naruto is keeping him company."

"Who's going to look over him while he's…" Itachi lifted a hand and indicated to his face.

"Well, a nurse should be assigned to him. But, she won't be there twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week."

He shook his head. "I don't like leaving him to himself when he's like this. It's not easy to cope with right away… even if it's not permanent."

Sakura was quiet for a moment. She understood what he meant and where it came from. Itachi didn't want Sasuke left for any period of time without sight. Granted, they weren't the same person and it wasn't the same situation, but for Itachi… it was too close to home and she couldn't really blame him.

"I offered him to stay with us, if you and he didn't have a problem with it."

"I'd prefer it."

"I assumed you would as much as I would. It'll be up to him though. Well, unless Tsunade orders it." She chuckled. "I wouldn't be surprised, at any rate.

"Are you hungry?"

He shook his head. "No, not right now. Maybe in a few hours."

She nodded. "Would you like me to bring you something from home to read?"

He shook his head again. "Actually, what I think I need is some more rest."

"Sure. I'll go check with some of the nurses and then—." She moved to stand, but a hand was slapped over her wrist and held.

"Lay with me for a while?" he asked softly.

She never got use to the easy sense of softness he always addressed her with, as if totally sure of himself and totally bare all at once. It always made something in side of her jump unexpectedly. The smile came back. "Sure." As gently as she could manage, Sakura slipped into the bed with him and curled up at his side. His arm wound and around her, she placed her palm on his chest, and let her temple rest on his shoulder. A yawn escaped her.

He chuckled. "Still tired?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted with a smile.

…

"Have I mentioned how much I hate this?"

"Only about five times so far," Sakura replied with a grin.

Sasuke grumbled.

She resisted the urge to chuckle as she led him down the street with Itachi on her right. She glanced over at him, smirking as she shared a look with Noin next to him—who was rolling her eyes.

"It won't be much longer now, Sasuke," Itachi said with some admonishment in his tone.

"A whole month like this… Kami. I'm going to murder someone."

Sakura chuckled that time; she couldn't help it. Her free hand came up and covered her mouth to stifle some of it.

All Sasuke did was sigh.

But she was happy he'd decided to stay at Itachi's. It wasn't really just about making it easier for her to keep an eye on both of them. No, beyond that it was about _them_.

She knew, in retrospect, that it would be hard for him—Sasuke. She wasn't going to be at Itachi's the whole time; now that he was self-sufficient, she could go back to normal activities outside of monitoring the two brothers. The surgery really didn't change much for him. This just made it easier for her, them being in the same house.

But Sasuke…

No, it would be good for him. It would be good for Itachi to be there for him again.

"We're here," she said aloud as they came to the little gate. She tugged on Sasuke as Itachi went ahead with Noin. Up the path they went towards the stairs and into the house.

"It'll go by quickly; you'll see, Sasuke," Sakura told him.

"One can hope."

"It will," she promised as they stepped through the threshold. She stopped and tilted her head to watch as Itachi went up the stairs with Noin. She waited until she couldn't see him anymore. Still, her eyes remained there. "Just remember how hard it was for him; it makes it easier."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see him go still; his lips parted and he didn't say anything right away. Green eyes turned to him then, watching as his head tilted down. He was getting lost in his own thoughts again…

"It's not easy to forget, Sakura."

For a moment she felt bad for saying anything; there was no need to remind him of the sacrifices Itachi made… hell, that they all made more than six months ago. In the end, she nodded and he squeezed her arm.

"No, not for any of us," she admitted with a long sigh. "Well, do you want to go to your room? Or do you want something to eat?"

"Food and then a nap. My head is killing me." He rubbed his temple gently, careful not to upset the bandages.

"That's residual Naruto."

He chuckled, finally. "Yeah, that idiot does tend to linger in the form of a migraine."

Then they were both laughing.

Perhaps it wouldn't be that long a month after all. Sakura could only hope. As she watched Itachi come back downstairs some time later and take a seat at the table, she realized she desperately wanted it to go by faster. Perhaps his anticipation was greater, but she couldn't help but feel it also… that desire to see the pitch of his eyes light up with happiness.

She _wanted_ to give him that.

She would.

* * *

**AN :: **Took me a while, huh? Sorry about that. Anyway, here it is. One more chapter to go. It's been a fun ride, either way. I loved working on this and the responses I've gotten. What's more, I've really enjoyed the big surge in Itachi/Sakura post 4th war fics I've seen popping up. I won't say that had anything to do with me, but it's still awesome. I was getting tired of sifting through the ones where he kidnaps her. ^^ Itachi is a good guy and should be written as one; at least in fanfic, right? Anyway, thanks for reading and listening to me ramble. I promise next chapter will be one to remember. I'll work extra hard to make Itachi's unveiling as awesome as possible.


	12. Chapter Twelve

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**Douze|**Twelve

"You're not coming with us?"

Sakura blinked and looked up from where she had been reading through a book. Sasuke's bandaged eyes were settled on her from behind the couch. She found herself turning slightly to look up at him where he stood with Naruto.

She smiled. "No, Itachi and I are doing our little removal ceremony here."

A fact both of them were very happy about; very.

It had been a little over a month since they'd all piled into the house. And it'd been slightly bumpy at first; at least until Sasuke had learned to use the same technique as his brother. Until then… eating, bathing, dressing… it'd all been a subject of much aggression for the younger Uchiha. But, Sakura thought it had been good for him. It gave him a graver sense of what it was like on the other end (even if she'd never say that to his face). Helplessness had never been Sasuke's forte. And he'd had to learn to deal with it for about week before mastering the jutsu.

Things eventually settled and the days had passed on. Therapeutic is what she would have used to describe it. Not for her, but for the brothers. Their talk before the surgery had mended things, but living in the same house had brought them together much stronger than before and with some sense of normalcy. Hearing Sasuke laugh when he didn't think she was around, and at something his brother said, that was shocking and warming. Sasuke smiled, but she couldn't recall a time before this that he had laughed.

And now it was over… Naruto was here to get him so he could have the final check and his bandages removed.

"Ah… I…" he replied. "I'll come back and get my things tomorrow."

Sakura raised a brow; at first she frowned, but it quickly turned into a smile. "That's generous of you to give us some time."

He shook his head, smirk appearing. "And here I figured you'd hit me for insinuating…"

"I still can if you'd like. But, I think I'll be around when you fall, Uchiha. And laughing I will be—at you—for the girl who _manages that_."

Naruto was laughing harder at this, doubling over at the thought. "Good one, Sakura-chan!"

"So when are you asking Hinata to marry you?"

And then the blonde's face got bright red, mouth opening, as Sasuke's smirk broadened.

"Thought so." Another smile. "Have fun, boys. I'm sure you'll be running right out to train after this."

If Sasuke could roll his eyes, or if she could see them… well, he probably was. "Have fun," he mumbled back before heading to the door. "I'll be sure to keep Naruto away."

"Oh, no worries," she said back, raising her voice as she returned to her book. "He knows well enough what happens to him when comes barreling in like a boar."

They were talking amongst themselves now, screen door slamming behind them. But, she was sure Naruto was complaining about Sasuke's response.

She continued to thumb through her book, not really reading it, but trying to pass the time now that the boys were gone. Itachi was up his room, still asleep; she had every intention of letting him enjoy today without interruption. As far as she was concerned, he'd earned it. Sasuke had as well, even if it wasn't for as much as it had been for his brother.

It had been… odd; the living in a home with the man you once devoted everything to and now with the man you… well, loved?

She wasn't sure she was ready for that word yet, but it was there.

But, they both took things slow; that's just how they both were (now). Sakura didn't mind taking her time; it's not like they were on active missions yet. And both brothers had another two weeks before Tsunade even considered it, just to make sure things were functioning properly. Hell, she wasn't even sure Itachi _wanted_ to go back on active duty. It wasn't anything they'd talked about. If anything, she just assumed he'd bring it up if he wanted to. For her though, after this, she'd probably pile her name back into the proverbial pot. Tsunade would want her to. And she really was looking forward to a mission with Sasuke and Naruto; after all, it'd been over three months since even a hint of the last one. She was starting to feel cramped up.

But, no, she had no idea what Itachi might want to do after he got back into a normal life, whatever that was for a shinobi. For all she knew, he might want to go back to ANBU duty. Or maybe even, drastically in a change of pace, decide to go Kakashi's route for a while and teach. Some might laugh at that, but Sakura could see Itachi making an excellent teacher not all entirely unlike her former sensei.

She sighed, stood up, and snapped her book closed before dropping it on the couch. She reached above her head, stretched, and yawned the last of the sleep out of her bones. Something popped and released an ache out of her back. A smile touched her face before she strode across the main living space and towards the stairs. She took them one by one, deciding not to rush or make too much noise in case he was still asleep.

However, as she rounded the corner, peeking into his room, she could see he was just starting to sit up out of bed.

His covered eyes moved to her direction. "Morning."

"And to you as well," she replied as she moved to the large window on the other side of the room. She reached up and pulled down the thicker curtains, closing the room in almost complete darkness. Some light still trickled in from other rooms just outside of the door. She switched on a lamp on her way back, keeping it all fairly dimmed.

"Sasuke left with Naruto just a bit ago." The door shut with a click, leaving everything in a basking, warm, dimmed glow from the lamps. She looked around, satisfied.

"I heard."

She smiled at that as she moved to sit down on the edge of the bed next to him. "With Naruto it's not easy to keep the volume down. Well," she said as she started to correct herself while she looked upward slightly, touching her chin, "not unless it's a mission these days."

Itachi smirked, reminding her of the one Sasuke had shown her moments ago. "I've found that out recently."

She chuckled. "Naruto goes where Sasuke goes."

He nodded.

She stopped to stare at him for a little while in the glow of the room, the gentle light that touched the walls and him. It hummed across his hair, creating a ring while the rest of it crept over his face; each bandage crevice left a line of darkness that matched just under the slight canopy of his hair.

He was beautiful. Always beautiful. And yet, it had almost nothing to do with the curve of his lips, the softness of his eyes when he wasn't angry, the length of his lashes that reminded her of his mother (the one time she'd seen a picture), or the lovely length his hair had grown into. No… it had everything to do with… the _reason_ he smiled; the way he listened—not just to her, but to anyone; the patience he had for others, his brother and Naruto; the unfortunate way he closed away and hid his pain, and the beautiful way in which he'd finally opened up; and just… everything.

She found, once she'd come back from her reverie, that her hand had reached out, touching the long strands; her fingers slid through them, parting them like reeds would water in slow moving river. "Are you going to cut it?"

He appeared to a jerk a little at that, as if the question was unexpected. She could see his brow furrow as her hand stilled, pausing. She felt more than saw his fingers curl around her wrist; no, she was more fascinated by the curious smile that wasn't quite there on his mouth. Even more so when he brought her hand up, hair falling off slowly like a wave, and turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist, inhaling barely as he did so.

"I hadn't given it much thought," he admitted gently. "Why, do you want me to cut it?"

"No," she found herself saying almost immediately. "Well—I suppose if _you_ want to—."

He chuckled softly. "The first answer was honest. I won't cut it."

And then she wasn't sure what to say at all.

He was still smiling. "I wish I could see that caught-off-guard look on your face just now. Can we please take these off now?"

And then she smiled. "Well, I didn't turn down the lights and close the curtains for nothing." She reached over towards the nightstand where she had a habit of keeping a few supplies for changing his bandages. "Did you want to do anything before we did this? Get dressed… eat?"

"No, I've waited long enough."

She pulled a small pair of medical scissors out and shut it back, then righted herself. "Just make sure you don't move. Ready?"

He just smiled in return.

Like it needed to be asked.

Without much else, she reached up and slid the scissors just under the bandage, careful not to catch his skin or hair, and began…

…

The steel was cold against his skin, just barely resting and sliding as she made the cuts. The process likely took moments, but to Itachi it felt like eons as his mind moved into overdrive. Anticipation burst in his chest; it hammered against his breast like a drum, beating a humming with each snip that brought him closer to freedom. He couldn't stop himself from trying to imagine just how everything looked before; faces, people, the village, his brother—everything.

It's like he was on the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall furiously and without consequence.

And then there came that point when he wasn't quite sure where she was at in the cutting process because he couldn't feel it anymore. His breath halted and he waited, waited for anything.

"You can open them now, Itachi."

For a brief moment, he realized he's been so wrapped up in his own adrenaline that he hadn't even felt her remove to material. But, by then it didn't matter.

Slowly, the veil lifted and colors assaulted his vision.

"It might be a bit blurry at first… just till you adjust… and don't try and use the Sharingan for an hour at the very least."

It was all a bit of a fog, she was right, but carefully… as he blinked, some of it came into focus. Slowly, beautifully, she came into focus.

Green… luminous green lined in black, above which rested thin brows of cotton candy. Beyond… long strands with just barely a wave in them, brighter in color than her eyebrows. Her cheeks were just as rosy, her nose petite, and her lips small but perfectly suited for her—for Sakura. He couldn't look at the rest of her just then; no, just her face. He couldn't help but try to remember the girl before, the one in valley, at a time that felt ages ago. And he couldn't help but see that she wasn't her anymore. He could see what he could always see now; the strength, growth, age, in her eyes that had always been present in her voice. The gentleness his mother had always told him was within him was reflected in her own eyes and right back into his. The intensity of it all stole his breath; his lips parted.

He never wanted to close his eyes again.

And then she smiled.

And he wasn't sure if he'd ever catch his breath once it hit him; once it _really_ hit him.

"I love you," he whispered, witnessing in mere seconds the drop of her smile and slight widening of her eyes.

He'd always known, it had been there for a while; knowing _when_ it had come to pass wasn't important, but it was there. Seeing her, having that connection made him realize so much in the same way as when he'd used the chakra radar technique the first time.

A light bulb went off and it made sense.

He didn't wait for her to respond; he didn't have the patience for that. Instead, he just reached out, leaned in, and captured her lips in a desperate kiss. He tangled his fingers into her hair, loose as it was; he reached around, tugging her closer, light breaking from his chest as she responded by returning the kiss and enclosing him in her own embrace.

He didn't like closing his eyes; he didn't want to. But, he'd deal with it just to feel her like this right now. The way her hands smoothed over his back, the way she opened up to him with touch alone, the sound of her breath being drawn in through her nose and how that same sound mingled with his own drawing of breath in some dramatic climax.

He pulled her back, falling onto the mattress and took her with him. She shifted at the movement, pulling her hands back from behind him just in time. For a long moment the kiss didn't stop, none of it did; however, eventually she pulled back and he opened his eyes. He watched as she reached for her top and pulled it off. He was so transfixed just watching her he didn't even have time to consider anything as she pulled it off. All he could focus on was the action, her skin as it revealed itself, and the movement of her hands. She shifted around, pulled the rest of it off, and before he could process it all, she was there… bare, naked, for the first time that he could actually see it.

He jerked out of his haze as she reached to pull the blanket away and likely undress him or see if he was wearing anything. He wasn't, but that was irrelevant.

His hands snapped over her wrists and he looked up at her where she knelt on the bed to his right. She looked right back at him, appearing confused.

"I just…" he started, brow furrowing.

"Is it too much…? Are you in pain… or…?"

He shook his head and let go just before shifting so he could sit up. "No, I…" he met her gaze, eyes narrowed as he carefully constructed the words in his head before he said them. "…This is the first time in months I've been able to _see_. And it's felt like ages for me, Sakura. _Ages_. For so much time before even then, before the fight…. I couldn't see very much at all. Blurs. I coped. But… for so long I'd almost forgotten what things looked like, or I thought I had.

"I've been trapped in this darkness that started with a fog. It became a slowly closing cage I couldn't escape. And I…" he said with a break in his voice, realizing as he spoke how much this all meant to him, what she'd done for him, worked so tirelessly for—for _him_. "I just want to _see_ you with these eyes," he pointed. "I want to… drink it all in—you. I want to drink _you_ in with my eyes," he breathed, reaching for her face, pulling her forehead to his.

She was shaking, he realized; and then heard the first sniff. He jerked away and his eyes searched her face rapidly. Clear trails rolled down and he felt his heart strain.

"Sakura…? …Sakura… what's wrong? Did I…?"

She shook her head quickly and began wiping her eyes. "I love you too," she said brokenly, not seeming able to say much more.

He hadn't expected it, hadn't needed it yet. There wasn't even a want for hearing it yet. But, hearing her say it hit him harder than he anticipated. He pulled her back to him, just hugging her in a careful squeeze until she stopped shaking and her tears dried.

When she pulled back she didn't say anything; she kissed him, the salt of her tears rolling over his tastebuds. He fell on the mattress with her, barely leaving her, touching, caressing, watching almost the whole time.

He watched as she arched, as she opened her pink lips and cried out and whimpered gently. He watched her hands wander over his skin, as his own hands touched along the planes and dips along her body. He watched as sweat gathered and pooled along their bodies, mixing and mingling together.

He watched as she rose to heaven and tumbled back to earth before finally joining her.

At the end, he was certain of one thing…

He would never _stop_ watching Haruno Sakura.

…

_One year later…_

The blossoms were beautiful, dancing as they did in the open breeze. The sky was clear, blue and endless with few clouds drifting along. Nothing blocked the sun. It was a cool afternoon despite the brightness.

The bride was beautiful, long hair piled up in a delicate and ornate manner. The length of her wedding kimono, white and woven embroidered silk, seemed to go on forever when she'd walked down the aisle. Both sides were filled with people in seats, softly murmuring before a hush was called and vow reciting started.

"I'm surprised you aren't crying," he whispered.

Green eyes glanced over at him through a lace fabric. She smiled. "No need to." Her hand reached for his, grasping it. He smiled back and squeezed just after his fingers interlaced thoroughly through hers.

She looked forward again, focused and ready.

"I am surprised Naruto's kept so still for this long, though…"

"Ah… but it's Hinata. He wouldn't do anything stupid to ruin this day for her; although, I can't see her being upset if he did by accident."

"She does make a beautiful bride. Remind me again why you didn't want to be one of her bridesmaids?"

Sakura shrugged. "I wanted to watch Sasuke squirm from a good seat."

At this he tried to chuckle softly, not wanting to disrupt the quiet of the ceremony as the couple spoke their vows.

"Hinata approved of the explanation. But, honestly, Ino is going to _force_ to be the maid of honor when she makes the dive. A girl can only be a bridesmaid so many times."

"Always a bridesmaid never a bride?"

"Either that or I can only wear a dress I don't pick out and probably won't like once."

"Fair enough."

They didn't say anymore, quieting down as they watched Naruto kiss Hinata and the whole thing come to an end of sorts, more of a happy beginning—Sakura knew. The guests moved on to the next phase, the reception, ect. Sakura found herself walking with Itachi in the same direction, but as a fairly slower pace than with the rest of the guests. Her hand was still laced into his as she watched the backs of people wander along.

She smiled at the array of colors in their dress, be it formal kimono or something else.

Weddings always made you think of your own future, your own plans—if one had any. Sakura thought about those often when she'd been younger, and had continued to for a little while when Sasuke returned. But, for a time after that she'd just let it go and relaxed. Now… at Naruto's wedding, she found herself thinking about them again. She found her mind wandering to all those images she'd locked away and placed somewhere for dusting off, cleaning, reordering, adding new things to in time, and eventually reviewing.

And she stopped quite suddenly, jerking Itachi back. To the point that he was looking at her and a little oddly at that, brow raised.

"You alright?"

She eyed him carefully, with a scrutinizing gaze and pursed her lips as if dissecting some sort of cell under a microscope in her lab; albeit a cell she loved, but still. The look made Itachi appear a little nervous.

"Sakura?"

"You wanna get married?"

That took him by surprise, she noted.

"You're… asking me to marry you?"

"Well… yeah." He was still looking at her oddly. She frowned. "Oh, this isn't about you asking me, is it? Or do we—of all people—really need a ring to do this?"

He suddenly barked laughter. "No, no… you just… caught me off guard there, is all."

"Not the best way to ask, I imagine."

"No, not really," he said, still smiling.

"Ok, how about this, I love you and would really just love to keep doing what we're doing with a cute little promise on paper between us.

"Better?"

He snorted. "Now you're just trying to annoy me."

"Is it working?" She edged closer to him, smirk present as her chest bumped slightly into his.

He sighed and wrapped his arms around her languidly. "Not really. Your name might need to be Sasuke for that to work."

"Ah…" Her arms came around his neck. "I don't think I can manage that."

He let his forehead rest on hers as he looked into her eyes. "Well, if you did then I wouldn't marry you because you'd be my brother… and that would be a little odd for me."

"That's a yes then?"

He chuckled. "Yes."

* * *

**AN :: **OMG, it's over. Finally. First, I want apologize for how long it took. This time, this author, had a legitimate excuse. First, we temporarily moved out of our house and into my mother's. Then we moved back into our house. The kids got move to their mother's and now that we have the money to fix ours, we're trying to. I could give you all the gory details, but I'm quite sure you don't (quite) care. Suffice it to say, it's been a long few months.

Now, for some sad news. This will likely be my last Naruto fanfic I personally write by myself. **I've got my book series going in ebook format and in softcover through self-publishing**. It's a steampunk novel adventure series. If you like that kind of stuff, please check out my web site: thesteamrunner with the usual dot and com present (it's free to read on there one chapter a month like I do my fanfiction; ps, I love reviews). I'm still trying to finish my BuffySpike fic and my other Naruto story (you can find the link on my profile if you want to read that). But, aside from that, I probably won't write anymore fanfics. I DO have one more I'm working on, but I won't post that _unless_ I finish it (it's a post-4th war Sasuke and Sakura story—rated M). I hate incomplete stories and I would never do that to you guys. Considering I'm unsure as to how busy I will be, for now just assume that Nightingale and Right Kind of Wrong are my LAST Naruto fanfics. But, do keep me on author alert in case it shows up.

Now, if you'd like to keep in _constant_ contact with me D, you can always check out my facebook page Kit Roe. Just type in the regular facebook address and then the forward slash and then KitRoe as one word.

Thank you all for taking this journey with me. I hope you will continue it with my original work and remain avid fans. OH! And if you want to read my urban fairy tale romance (M rated) then click the like to Rose Red on my website thesteamrunner.

Thank you again and I will love you all—always,

**-Blade (aka Kit Roe)**


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